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BEAUMARCHAIS 

AND  HIS  TIMES. 


SKETCHES    OF    FRENCH    SOCIETY 

IN    THE    EIGHTEENTH    CENTURY 
FROM  UNPUBLISHED  DOCUMEmrS. 


BY   LOUIS   DE   LOMENIE. 


TBANBLATED  BT 


HENRY   S.   EDWARDS. 


NEW    YORK: 

HARPER    &    BROTHERS,    PUBLISHERS, 
FBANKLIN    SQUARE. 

1857. 


TO 


M.  J.  J.  AMPERE, 

OF   THE   FBEMCH   A.CADEMT, 

PROFESSOR    OF   MODERN   FRENCH    LITERATURE   AT   THE 
COLLEGE    OF   FRANCE. 

My  dear  Friend, — Permit  me  to  dedicate  to  you  this 
work,  which  has  cost  me  more  labor  than  any  of  my 
others.  Owing  to  the  value  of  the  documents  which  it 
contains,  it  will,  perhaps,  not  fall  at  once  into  oblivion. 
If  it  should  be  its  privilege  to  live  for  some  short  period, 
it  would  be  very  gratifying  to  me  to  think  that,  at  the 
same  time,  it  caused  this  public  testimonial  to  live,  of 
the  profound  esteem  and  the  heartfelt  and  grateful  affec- 
tion which  your  deputy  at  the  College  of  France  enter- 
tains for  you. 

Louis  de  Lomenie. 


ADVEETISEMENT. 


A  few  pages,  containing  details  regarding  the  French 
stage  in  the  last  century,  criticisms  upon  the  dramatic 
works  of  M.  de  Beaumarchais,  and  other  matters  of  no 
interest  to  the  American  reading  public,  have  been  omit- 
ted from  this  edition  of  M.  de  Lom^nie's  work. 


CONTENTS. 


INTRODUCTION. 


A  Garret  in  the  Kue  du  Pas-de-la-Mule. — State  of  the  Papers  left  by 
Beaumarchais. — Gudin,  the  Punctual  Man.  —  Beaumarchais'  first 
work  of  Art. — Portrait  of  a  Lady. — Beaumarchais'  previous  Biog- 
raphers  Page  13 

CHAPTER  I. 

Birth  of  Beaumarchais. — His  Family. — The  Home  of  a  small  Bour- 
geois in  the  Eighteenth  Centiuy. — Julie  Beaumarchais  as  the  Dying 
Swan 25 

CHAPTER  n. 

Beaumarchais'  Childhood. — His  Education. — Beaumarchais  as  "  Che- 
rubino." — Beaumarchais  turned  out  of  doors. — Beaumarchais  as  a 
Watchmaker. — His  first  Lawsuit 38 

CHAPTER  m. 

Beanmarchais'  Appearance  at  Court. — Court  Titles. — The  Controller 
of  the  Pantry. — Beaumarchais'  first  Marriage. — His  Position  with 
"  Mesdames  de  France." — The  inexpert  Watchmaker. — A  Duel  with- 
out Seconds. — A  Debt  of  Honor. — Beaumarchais'  Literary  Educa- 
tion   57 

CHAPTER  rV. 

Beaumarchais  and  Paris  dn  Vemey.  —  The  Grand  Rangership  of 
Rivers  and  Forests.  —  Beaumarchais  Lieutenant-general  of  Pre- 
serves    75 

CHAPTER  V. 

Beaumarchais  and  Clavijo. — Beaumarchais  at  Madrid. — A  Breach  of 
Promise  of  Marriage. — M.  de  Grimaldi. — Beaumarchais  in  the  Com- 
missariat.— Beaumarchais'  Seguedillas. — Beaumarchais  at  the  Card- 
table. — Beaumarchais  and  Voltaire. — The  Spanish  Drama 88 

A2 


X  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  VI. 

Beaumarchais  on  his  Return  from  Spain. — An  Episode  in  his  Private 
Life. — His  Love-affair  with  Pauline. — Beaumarchais'  Love-letters. — 
Figaro,  Pauline's  Friend Page  106 

CHAPTER  Vn. 
Beaumarchais'  first  Dramas. — Eugenie. — The  Two  Friends. — His  sec- 
ond Marriage 128 

CHAPTER  Vm. 

Beaumarchais  and  his  Lawsuits.  —  The  Count  de  la  Blache. — An 
Ingenious  Advocate. — The  Disputed  Document. — Death  of  Beau- 
marchais' second  Wife. — An  Indiscretion. —  "The  Barber  of  Se- 
ville."   135 

CHAPTER  IX. 

Madame  Menard.  —  A  Portrait  by  Grimm. — A  jealous  Duke. — The 
Rivals. — ^The  Duke  attacks  Gudin. — The  Duke  attacks  Beaumar- 
chais    147 

CHAPTER  X. 

Beaumarchais  at  For-l'Eveque. — Beaumarchais  in  Seclusion. — Madame 
Menard's  Intercession. — Beaumarchais  in  his  Prison. — Beaumarchais 
gives  in. — A  Letter  to  a  Child. — Goezman  and  his  Report. — ^Beaumar- 
chais in  Despair 165 

CHAPTER  XI. 

The  Maupeou  Parliament.  —  Beaumarchais'  Action  against  Goez- 
man   174 

CHAPTER  Xn. 

The  Memorialsof  Beaumarchais' Adversaries. — Goezman  suspended. — 
The  "Confrontation." — The  " Great  Bertrand."— Marin  the  "Gaze- 
tier  de  France" 184 

CHAPTER  Xm. 

Composition  of  the  Memorials. — Voltaire  and  the  Memorials. — The 
Goezman  Case  abroad. — An  anonymous  Letter. — Councilor  Gin. — 
Madame  du  Defiknd  to  Horace  Walpole. — The  Sentence 192 

CHAPTER  XIV. 
Beaumarchais'  secret  Missions. — The  "Journalist  in  Armor." — Value 
of  Madame  du  Barry's  Honor. — Death  of  Louis  XV. — ^The  young 
King. — More  Libels. — The  confidential  Agent 204 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

The  Chevalier  d'Eon. — Mademoiselle  d'Eon  at  St.  Petersburg. — M. 
d'Eon  at  London. — The  Chevalier  and  the  Queen  of  England. — The 
Chevalier's  little  Account. — The  Chevalier  and  Beaumarchais. — The 
Chevalier  and  Gudin. — The  Chevalier  and  M.  de  Sartines...Page  223 

CHAPTER  XVL 

Restitution  of  Civil  Rights. — The  Barber  of  Seville. — Final  Victory 
over  the  Count  de  laBlache 248 

CHAPTER  XVn. 

Beaumarchais  and  the  "War  of  Independence. — France  and  England  in 
1775. — Beaumarchais  and  Wilkes. — Memorial  to  the  King. — The  Op- 
position in  England. — Beaumarchais  to  the  King. — Beaumarchais 
supported  by  the  Ministry. — The  Ministry's  first  Grant 255 

CHAPTER  XVm. 

Arthur  Lee. — Chances  of  a  War  with  England. — Dr.  Dubourg  and 
Beaumarchais'  "Young  Ladies." — Roderigue  Hortalez  and  Co. — 
Franklin  and  the  American  Deputation. — Beaumarchais'  Agent  in 
America 276 

CHAPTER  XIX. 

Relations  of  France  with  England. — Recognition  of  American  Inde- 
pendence.— War  between  England  and  France. — The  "Fier  Roderi- 
gue" in  Action. — Beaumarchais  on  the  Treaty  of  1763. — Congress 
and  the  Supplies 305 

CHAPTER  XX. 

The  American  Commissioners. — Bills  at  a  long  Date. — Prolonged  De- 
lays.— Beaumarchais'  first  Million. — Arbitration  proposed. — Beau- 
marchais in  Distress. — Repudiation  persisted  in. — Lltimate  Com- 
promise   319 

CHAPTER  XXI. 

Voltaire's  Works. — The  Margrave  of  Baden. — Beaumarchais  and  Cath- 
arine of  Russia. — Opposition  to  Beaumarchais'  Speculation 344 

CHAPTER  XXn. 

Position  of  Beaumarchais  before  the  Representation  of  "  The  Marriage 
of  Figaro." — Opposition  to  the  Performance. — Beaumarchais  exer- 
cising the  Censorship. — Beaumarchais  and  the  Prince  of  Nassau. — 
A  Paladin  of  the  Middle  Ages  in  the  eighteenth  Century 350 


XU  CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  XXni. 

"The  Marriage  of  Figaro." — First  Representation. — Geoffrey  and  the 
Comedy. — Distribution  of  the  Parts. — The  Benevolent  Maternal  In- 
stitution.— The  Tiger  and  the  Flea. — ^Beaumarchais  in  St.  Lazare. — 
Quarrel  with  Mirabeau Page  377 

CHAPTER  XXIV. 

Another  Lawsuit.  —  Exercise  of  Marital  Authority.  —  A  complaisant 
Husband.  —  Bergasse  and  his  Memorials.  —  Verdict  for  Beaumar- 
chais 395 

CHAPTER  XXV. 

"  Tarare."  —  Beaumarchais'  House  and  Garden.  —  Napoleon  and 
Beaumarchais'  Daughter. — Mademoiselle  Eugenie. — La  M^re  Cou- 
pable 406 

CHAPTER  XXVJ. 

Beaumarchais  after  the  10th  August. — His  60,000  Guns. — His  Lawsuit. 
—The  Convention 421 

CHAPTER  XXVn. 

Beaumarchais  Agent  for  the  Committee  of  Public  Safety  abroad,  and 
at  the  same  time  on  the  List  of  Emigrants. — DiflSculties  of  his  Mis- 
sion,— Confiscation  of  his  Property. — Imprisonment  of  his  Family. — 
Private  Life  at  Paris  during  and  after  the  Reign  of  Terror. — Beau- 
marchais at  Hamburg 431 

CHAPTER  XXVnL 

Beaumarchais  after  his  Return  to  France. — His  life  under  the  Directo- 
ry.— His  death 441 

CHAPTER  XXIX. 
Conclusion 456 

Appendix , , 459 


BEAUMARCHAIS  AND  HIS  TIMES. 


INTEODUCTION. 

A  Garret  in  the  Rue  du  Pas-de-la-Mule. — State  of  the  Papers  left  by 
Beaumarchais.  —  Gudin,  the  Punctual  Man.  —  Beaumarchais'  first 
■work  of  Art. — Portrait  of  a  Lady. — Beaumarchais'  previous  Biog- 
raphers. 

AccoJiPANiED  by  a  grandson  of  Beaumarchais,  I  one  day 
entered  a  house  in  the  Rue  du  Pas-de-la-Mule.  We  went  up 
staii'S  to  a  garret  into  which  no  one  had  penetrated  for  several 
years,  and  on  opening  the  door — which  was  not  done  without 
difficulty — raised  a  cloud  of  dust  which  almost  suffocated  us. 
I  ran  to  the  window  for  air ;  but,  like  the  door,  the  window 
had  so  completely  lost  the  habit  of  opening,  that  it  resisted 
all  my  efforts :  the  wood,  swollen  and  rotten  from  dampness, 
threatened  to  fall  to  pieces  beneath  my  hand,  when  I  took 
the  wise  resolution  of  breaking  two  of  the  panes,  and  we  were 
at  length  able  to  breathe  and  cast  our  eyes  freely  around  us. 
The  little  room  was  covered  with  boxes  and  cases  filled  with 
papers.  Before  me,  in  this  uninhabited  and  silent  cell — be- 
neath this  thick  layer  of  dust,  I  had  all  that  remained  of  one 
of  the  most  lively  wits — one  of  the  most  noisy,  agitated,  and 
varied  existences  which  belonged  to  the  last  century.  I  had 
before  me  all  the  papers  left  fifty-four  years  ago  by  the  author 
of  the  "Marriage  of  Figaro." 

When  the  superb  mansion  built  by  Beaumarchais,  on  the 
boulevard  which  bears  his  name,  was  sold  and  pulled  down, 
his  papers  were  removed  to  a  neighboring  house,  and  shut  up 
in  the  room  where  I  found  them.  The  presence  of  a  brush 
and  of  a  few  gloves,  intended  to  preserve  the  hands  from  dust, 
showed  that  from  time  to  time  visits  had  become  more  rare, 
death  having  taken  away  in  succession  the  widow  and  daugh- 


14  BEAUMAKCHAIS  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

ter  of  Beaumarchais.  His  son-in-law  and  grandchildren,  fear- 
ing the  documents  might  fall  into  negligent  or  hostile  hands, 
had  resolved  to  let  them  lie  in  peace ;  and  thus  valuable  materi- 
als for  the  history  of  the  eighteenth  century — thus  all  the  sou- 
venirs of  an  extraordinary  career  had  remained  buried  for  more 
than  twenty  years  in  a  deserted  cell,  the  aspect  of  which  filled 
me  with  a  profound  melancholy.  In  disturbing  the  rest  of  this 
heap  of  paper's,  yellow  with  age,  written  or  received  in  former 
times  in  anger  or  in  joy  by  a  being  who — as  Madame  de  Stael 
said  of  Mirabeau — was  so  strongly  animated,  so  fully  in  posses- 
sion of  life,  it  seemed  as  if  I  was  performing  an  exhumation. 
I  fancied  I  saw  one  of  those  tombs  in  Pere  la  Chaise  which, 
although  visited  frequently  in  the  first  instance,  become  at  last 
covered  with  nettles,  reminding  us  incessantly  of  the  forgetful- 
ness  which  follows  us  on  the  earth,  from  which  we  pass  so 
rapidly. 

One  portion,  however,  of  the  papers  had  been  arranged  with 
care :  it  was  that  which  related  to  the  numerous  and  varied 
transactions  of  Beaumarchais  as  pleader,  merchant,  shipowner, 
contractor  for  government  stores,  and  administrator.*     The 

*  When  Beaumarchais  had  become  rich,  and  enjoyed  the  reputation 
of  being  a  man  of  universal  attainments,  he  had  every  plan,  every  pro- 
ject, in  whatever  brain  it  might  have  originated,  addressed  to  him,  in 
hopes  that  his  co-operation  might  be  obtained.  Some  notion  may  be 
formed  of  the  number  from  the  following  list,  which  only  embraces  the 
contents  of  a  single  portfolio. 

State  of  the  different  Projects  suhmitted  to  the  Consideration  of 
M.  de  Beaumarchais. 

Project  of  a  loan  for  the  Duke  de  Chartres,  1784.  Copy  of  the  patent 
authorizing  the  Duke  de  Choiseul  to  borrow  400,000  francs,  1783.  Proj- 
ect of  a  universal  system  of  criminal  legislation.  Observations  on  the 
means  of  acquiring  land  in  Scioto.  Document  for  the  associated  pro- 
prietors of  the  inclosure  of  the  Quinze-Vingts.  Notes  on  the  civil  ex- 
istence of  Protestants  in  France.  Project  of  a  loan  equally  beneficial 
to  the  king  and  to  the  public.  Prospectus  of  a  mill  to  be  established  at 
Harfleur.  Project  of  a  communication  with  India  by  the  Isthmus  of 
Suez.  Paper  on  the  conversion  of  peat  into  coal,  and  on  the  advant- 
ages of  this  discovery.  Papers  containing  a  plan  for  giving  the  king 
twenty  vessels  of  the  line  and  twelve  frigates,  to  sene  as  escort  for 
trading  vessels  to  the  colonies.  Paper  on  the  plantation  of  rhubarb. 
Prospectus  of  a  financial  operation,  and  loan  in  the  form  of  a  state 


INTRODUCTION.  15 

other  portion,  which  presented  a  biographical,  literary,  or  his- 
torical interest,  was  in  comparative  disorder ;  it  could  be  seen 
that  the  classification  had  been  left  to  the  cashier  Gudin,  a 
zealous  man  of  business,  who  assigned  the  first  rank  to  prac- 
tical matters.  Accordingly,  after  having  disinterred  from  this 
chaos  the  manuscripts  of  the  three  dramas  and  the  opera  of 
Beaumarchais,  we  looked  in  vain  for  the  manuscripts  of  the 
"Barber  of  Seville"  and  "Marriage  of  Figaro,"  until,  having 
caused  a  locksmith  to  open  a  chest,  the  key  of  which  had 
been  lost,  we  discovered  the  two  manuscripts  at  the  bottom, 
beneath  a  mass  of  useless  papers.*  At  the  side  were  the 
works  of  a  watch,  executed  on  a  large  scale  in  copper,  and 
bearing  the  following  inscription:  "  Caron  Jilius  cetatis  21  an- 
norum  regulatorem  invenit  et  fecit,  1753."  It  was  the  invention 
with  which  Beaumarchais,  the  young  watchmaker,  made  his 
debut  in  life.  The  juxtaposition  in  the  same  box  of  these 
objects,  of  such  very  diflferent  kinds,  the  masterpiece  of  the 
watchmaker,  and  the  two  masterpieces  of  the  dramatic  author, 
had  something  remarkable  in  it ;  it  seemed  to  be  a  reminis- 
cence of  the  Eastern  monarch,  who  placed  in  the  same  box  his 
shepherd's  garment  and  his  royal  cloak.  At  the  bottom  of 
this  box  were  also  some  portraits  of  women.  One  of  these — 
a  very  small  miniature  representing  a  beautiful  woman  of 
from  twenty  to  twenty-five  years  of  age — was  wrapped  up  in 

lottery.  Project  of  an  office  of  exchange  and  of  a  bank  of  accumula- 
tion. Project  of  a  bridge  to  the  arsenal  (this  last  project,  now  realized, 
was  one  which  much  occupied  the  old  age  of  Beaumarchais). 

*  These  two  manuscripts  are  copies,  but  full  of  corrections,  additions, 
and  alterations,  which  are  all  in  the  handwriting  of  Beaumarchais. 
They  appear  to  have  been  used  at  the  first  representation  of  each  of 
the  two  pieces.  The  alterations  are  very  numerous,  above  all  in  the 
"Barber  of  Seville,"  the  two  last  acts  of  which,  the  fourth  and  the  fifth, 
w^ere  cut  down  into  one,  between  the  first  and  second  representations. 
In  the  manuscript  I  find  the  two  acts  as  they  were  originally  planned 
by  the  author.  Various  other  sketches  relating  to  these  two  above- 
mentioned  pieces — the  sketches  of  "Eugenie,"  the  "  Two  Friends,"  the 
"  Guilty  Mother,"  and  the  "Memorials  against  Goezman"  (many  parts 
of  which  have  been  rewritten,  as  many  as  three  times,  in  Beaumar- 
chais' own  handwriting),  allow  us  to  put  an  end  to  the  ridiculous  ques- 
tion, which  has  been  again  raised  during  our  own  period,  namely, 
whether  Beaumarchais  was  really  the  author  of  his  own  works. 


16  BEArMAKCHAIS  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

a  piece  of  paper,  bearing  the  following  words  in  a  delicate  but 
rather  scratchy  handwriting :  "  /  return  you  my  portrait " — 
graceful  but  fragile  relics ;  less  graceful,  however,  than  our- 
selves, since  they  survive  us !  What  has  become  of  this  beau- 
tiful person  of  ninety  years  since  ?  (I  say  ninety  years,  be- 
cause I  recognized  the  writing,  which  dates  from  1764.)  What 
has  become  of  this  beautiful  person,  who,  by  way  of  sealing  a 
reconciliation  no  doubt,  had  written,  "  I  return  you  my  por- 
trait." She  has  gone,  as  the  poet  Villon  would  say,  "  where 
last  yearns  snow  has  gone !" 

Among  the  numerous  documents  which  this  cabinet  con- 
tained, many  appeared  to  have  been  put  in  order  by  Beau- 
marchais  himself,  with  the  intention  of  making  use  of  them  for 
the  memoirs  of  his  life  ;  and  it  could  be  seen  at  the  same  time 
that,  after  forming  this  project,  he  had  abandoned  it.  Thus,  in 
a  voluminous  portfolio  containing  his  correspondence  with  M. 
de  Sartines,  and  the  details  of  his  travels  as  secret  agent  of 
Louis  XV.  and  Louis  XVL,  the  following  lines  in  his  own 
handwriting  are  to  be  seen:  '^^  Original  documents  remitted  hy 
M.  de  Sartines — materials  for  tlie  memoirs  of  my  life  /"  lower 
down,  in  the  same  handwriting,  are  the  words,  "  useless  now." 

The  explanation  of  this  is,  that  Beaumarchais,  in  his  old  age, 
during  the  first  republic,  leaving  his  daughter  with  his  embar- 
rassed affairs  and  his  lawsuits  against  the  existing  government, 
considered  he  might  injure  her,  and  even  injure  his  own  rep- 
utation, if  he  called  attention  to  his  monarchical  antecedents, 
and,  above  all,  to  that  part  of  his  career  during  which  he  was 
in  the  direct  service  of  Louis  XV.,  Louis  XVL,  and  their 
ministers. 

However  this  may  have  been,  the  examination  of  those  pa- 
pers makes  us  regret  exceedingly  that  Beaumarchais  did  not 
carry  out  his  project  of  relating  himself  the  singular  phases  of 
an  existence  which  was  mixed  up  with  all  of  the  events  of  his 
period.  Of  all  the  famous  men  of  the  eighteenth  century,  he 
is  probably  the  one  about  whom  the  greatest  number  of  fabu- 
lous statements  have  been  circulated,  while  the  real  incidents 
of  his  life  have  only  been  made  known  to  the  public  by  a  few 
vague  pages  which  he  has  inserted  here  and  there  in  judicial 
pleadings,  in  which  the  apologetic  form  and  the  discussions 


INTRODUCTION.  17 

which  necessarily  occur,  put  the  reader  on  his  guard,  and  sat- 
isfy his  curiosity  in  a  very  incomplete  manner. 

Every  thing  which  has  been  written  during  the  last  fifty 
years  about  the  author  of  the  "  Marriage  of  Figaro"  has  been 
taken  from  the  same  source,  that  is  to  say,  borrowed  from  the 
essay  published  by  La  Harpe  in  1800,  and  which  forms  part 
of  his  "  Course  of  Literature."*  The  chapter  devoted  in  this 
work  to  Beaumarchais  is  sufficiently  developed.  La  Harpe, 
perceiving  with  reason  that  in  Beamarchais  the  man  is  supe- 
rior to  the  writer,  gives  a  little  more  scope  to  the  biographical 
part  of  the  subject  than  he  is  in  the  habit  of  doing  with  other 
authors ;  but  whether,  so  soon  after  his  death,  Beaumarchais' 
papers  had  not  yet  been  arranged,  or  whether  La  Harpe  did 
not  think  it  right  to  penetrate  too  far  into  an  existence  which 
was  bound  up  with  those  of  a  multitude  of  persons  who  were 
alive  when  he  was  writing,  it  is  certain  that  he  has  confined 
himself  to  such  general  information  as  he  might  have  gather- 
ed from  the  widow  of  the  defunct ;  and  that,  in  a  biographic- 
al point  of  view,  his  chapter  is  the  merest  sketch,  in  which 
there  is  not  a  date,  not  a  detail,  put  down  with  exactness,  and 
in  which  the  principal  parts  are  scarcely  indicated,  to  say  noth- 
ing of  some  rather  grave  errors  which  have  been  religiously 
reproduced  by  all  subsequent  biographers.  It  is  not  the  less 
incontestable  that  this  chapter  of  La  Harpe's  "  Course  of  Lit- 
erature" has  been  of  much  benefit  to  the  reputation  of  Beau- 
marchais, which  had  been  so  vigorously  attacked.  Although 
a  severe,  and  occasionally  too  harsh  a  critic  of  the  dramatic  au- 
thor, La  Harpe  renders  to  the  qualities  of  the  man,  with  whom 
he  was  acquainted,  a  justice  which  can  not  be  suspected  of 
partiality ;  for  the  celebrated  aristarch  had  at  this  time  become 
very  hostile,  not  only  to  the  writings,  but  also  to  the  writers 
of  the  eighteenth  century;  and  the  unexpected  exception  which 
he  makes  in  favor  of  Beaumarchais,  the  praises  which  he  lav- 
ishes upon  his  disposition,  the  warmth  with  which,  before  any 

*  I  must  except  an  interesting  article  published  recently  by  M.  Sainte 
Beuve.  The  brilliant  author  of  the  "  Causeries  du  Lundi,"  knowing 
that  I  had  Beaumarchais'  papers  in  my  possession,  did  me  the  honor  to 
apply  to  me  for  information  regarding  him,  and  I  communicated  to  him 
a  certain  nimiber  of  details  of  which  he  has  made  excellent  use. 


18  BEAUMABCHAIS   AND   HIS   TIMES. 

one  else  had  done  so,  he  refutes  the  mass  of  calumnies  which 
had  been  heaped  upon  the  head  of  a  man  whose  life  was  a  con- 
tinued struggle,  have  contributed  not  a  little  to  prevent  all 
conscientious  writers  who  came  after  him  from  estimating  the 
author  of  the  "  Marriage  of  Figaro"  by  the  dialectics  and  some- 
times atrocious  imputations  of  his  numerous  adversaries. 

The  following  is  an  extract  from  an  unpublished  letter  of 
La  Harpe  addressed  to  Madame  de  Beaumarchais  six  months 
after  the  death  of  her  husband,  December  1,  1799,  just  when 
the  critic  was  engaged  upon  his  essay.  This  letter  proves 
the  spontaneity  and  sincerity  of  La  Harpe's  sympathy,  which 
astonished  some  persons  when  the  eleventh  volume  of  the 
**  Course  of  Literature"  appeared. 

"December!. 

"  My  own  opinion,"  writes  La  Harpe, "  of  the  excellent  husband 
whom  you  regret,  had  long  since  made  me  foresee  what  is  now  sug- 
gested to  you  with  regard  to  him  by  your  very  natural  and  praise- 
worthy aflfection.  I  have  always  been  indignant  at  the  calumnies  and 
persecutions,  equally  odious  and  absurd,  of  which  he  has  so  often  been 
the  object.  You  may  be  certain,  madam,  that  on  this  point  thorough 
justice  shall  be  done ;  and  this  is,  indeed,  one  of  the  reasons  which 
have  led  me  to  think  of  placing  a  notice  of  him  in  the  chapter  on  the 
'  Comedy  of  this  Century ;'  but,  although  this  chapter  has  long  been 
in  the  hands  of  the  printer,  the  notice  is  not  yet  written.  First  of  all, 
it  will  be  necessary,  according  to  my  method,  to  read  again  every 
thing  he  has  written ;  and,  as  I  spend  so  much  time  in  writing,  I  have 
not  much  left  for  reading.  The  article  must  be  done  very  carefully, 
moreover.  I  have  others  to  finish  previously,  and  I  shall  pfcrbaps 
have  the  pleasure  of  seeing  you  before  I  commence  it :  it  will  be  the 
better  for  it  in  every  respect. 

"  You  must  be  equally  at  rest,  madam,  as  regards  every  thing  which 
concerns  his  talent.  I  have  always  had  a  high  opinion  of  it,  and  I  like 
to  render  justice.  I  would  doubtless  rather  have  rendered  it  to  him 
during  his  lifetime,  and  I  esteemed  him  sufficiently  to  have  enabled 
me,  while  I  did  so,  to  add  a  few  words  of  disinterested  criticism ;  the 
article  would  then  only  have  found  its  place  in  the  rapid  glance  at  con- 
temporary literature  which  will  conclude  my  work.  His  literary 
powers,  however,  belong  to  posterity  ;  and,  although  it  is  not  at  pres- 
ent very  far  removed  from  him,  I  shall  endeavor  to  give  utterance  to 
its  voice  as  if  a  considerable  distance  already  existed  between  them. 
My  opinion  will  not  be  open  to  suspicion.  I  was  more  one  of  his  ac- 
quaintances than  one  of  his  friends,  and  I  never  received  from  him 


INTRODUCTrON.  19 

any  of  those  services  which  he  rendered  so  willingly  to  men  of  let- 
ters, and  of  which  I  am  not  ignorant. 

"  Believe  me,  &c.,  Delaharpe."* 

The  Essay  of  La  Harpe  is  important,  then,  as  an  honest  tes- 
timony in  favor  of  the  good  qualities  of  Beaumarchais ;  but 
as  a  biography  it  gives  a  very  insufficient  idea  of  the  vicissi- 
tudes of  his  existence,  and  of  the  relation  which  it  bore  to  the 
history  of  his  time.  An  estimable  writer,  the  brother  of  Gu- 
din,  the  cashier  of  whom  I  lately  spoke,  Gudin  de  la  Brenel- 
lerie,  who  was  during  thirty  years  one  of  the  most  attached 
and  intimate  fidends  of  Beaumarchais,  had  been  struck  by  the 
omissions  in  this  Essay  of  La  Harpe's,  and  had  resolved  to 
supply  them.f    With  this  view  he  had  prepared  a  detailed  no- 

*  ^Vhile  in  other  places  we  adopt  for  the  name  of  La  Harpe  the  or- 
thography in  most  general  use,  we  think  we  ought  to  mention  that  in  a 
great  number  of  his  letters  which  we  possess  he  always  signs  his  name 
"Delaharpe." 

t  As  Paul  Philippe  Gadin  de  la  Brenellerie  will  have  to  appear  more 
than  once  in  this  work,  as  Beaumarchais' ^^cft«  Achates,  he  deserves  to 
be  made  the  subject  of  a  special  notice.  Sprung  from  a  Genevese  fam- 
ily, he  was  bom  in  Paris  in  1738.  Like  the  author  of  the  "Marriage 
of  Figaro,"  he  was  the  son  of  a  watchmaker.  His  intimacy  with  him 
commenced  in  1770,  and  continued  without  a  cloud  until  the  death  of 
Beaumarchais.  Gudin  survived  his  friend  thirteen  years ;  he  died,  cor- 
respondent of  the  "Institute,"  February  26th,  1812.  This  writer,  who 
is  frequently  praised  by  Voltaire,  had  more  fertility  than  talent:  he 
published  a  large  number  of  works  in  prose  and  verse,  and  had  several 
tragedies  acted  or  printed,  one  of  which  was  burnt  at  Rome,  in  1768,  by 
order  of  the  Inquisition.  All  those  productions  are  now  equally  for- 
gotten. Few  persons  even  have  any  idea  that  one  of  the  lines  most  fre- 
quently quoted  about  Henri  FV.,  "  Seul  roi  de  qui  le  pauvre  ait  garde  la 
memoire"  (the  only  king  whose  memory  the  poor  man  has  presened),  is 
Gudin's.  This  Une,  which  is  to  be  found  in  a  piece  of  poetry  sent  by 
him  to  a  meeting  of  the  Academy  in  1779,  was  selected  by  that  body  as 
an  appropriate  inscription  for  the  statue  of  Henry  IV.  (Vide  "  Grimm's 
Correspondence," May,  1799.)  "Write  numerous  volumes,  then,  in  order 
that  out  of  all  your  works  one  fortunate  line  alone  may  remain  which 
every  one  knows,  while  no  one  knows  who  is  its  author !  In  the  ab- 
sence of  genius,  Gudin  had,  at  least,  an  excellent  heart.  It  is  true  that 
he  partook  of  all  the  philosophical  prejudices  of  the  eighteenth  century ; 
he  was  also  tinged  with  that  licentiousness  of  wit  which  was  then  in 
fashion  ;  but  his  life  was  an  unpretending  one,  and  much  more  regular 
than  one  would  imagine  from  reading  some  of  his  lighter  poetry.  His 
intellect  had,  moreover,  been  principally  directed  to  serious  stadi(;^■ 


20  BEAUMARCHAIS    AND    HIS   TIMES. 

tice  of  his  friend's  life.  This  notice  forms  a  manuscript  of 
419  pages,  divided  into  four  parts,  and  entitled,  "The  His- 
tory of  Pierre  Augustin  Caron  de  Beaumarchais ;  Materials 
for  a  literary,  commercial,  and  political  History  of  his  Age." 
It  was  to  be  placed  at  the  beginning  of  the  edition  of  the  works 
of  Beaumarchais,  published  by  the  same  Gudin  in  1809  ;*  but, 
after  reading  it,  the  widow  of  the  author  of  the  "  Marriage  of 
Figaro,"  a  lady  of  distinction  in  every  respect,  and  who  will 
be  spoken  of  more  at  length  in  the  course  of  this  work,  ap- 

The  greatest  part  of  his  existence  was  devoted  to  the  composition  of  a 
history  of  France  in  thirty-five  volumes,  on  which  he  founded  his  great- 
est hopes  of  glon,-,  and  for  which  he  was  unable  to  find  a  publisher. 
Gudin  was  timid  by  disposition,  and  eminently  just  and  honorable. 
The  disinterestedness  of  his  affection  and  enthusiasm  for  Beaumarchais 
has  sometimes  been  suspected,  but  without  reason.  I  have  a  number 
of  Gudin's  letters,  which  prove  the  freedom,  openness,  and  dignity  of 
his  relations  mth  his  opulent  friend.  I  will  only  cite  one  instance, 
which  appears  to  me  very  touching.  When,  after  the  Reign  of  Terror, 
Beaumarchais  returned  to  France,  Gudin,  who  had  retired  into  the 
countr}'  to  a  distance  of  fifty  leagues  from  Paris,  was  burning  to  em- 
brace the  man  whom  he  loved  more  than  any  one  in  the  world.  But, 
although  he  possessed  a  small  patrimony,  the  severity  of  the  times  hav- 
ing deprived  him  of  his  ordinary  income,  he  found  himself  without  mon- 
ey to  undertake  the  voyage.  Beaumarchais,  although  impoverished 
himself,  hastened  to  send  him  the  money  necessarj-.  Gudin  started, 
and,  after  gratifying  the  wish  of  his  heart,  returned  to  the  country. 
A  month  afterward  I  find  that  he  sent  Beaumarchais  back  the  money 
he  had  borrowed.  Beaumarchais  hesitated  about  accepting  it,  but  Gu- 
din insisted  with  the  air  of  a  man  who  is  not  accustomed  to  allow  any 
such  advantage  to  be  taken  of  him.  What  is  to  be  said,  after  this,  of 
the  ingenious  idea  of  a  writer  of  the  present  day,  who,  as  I  am  inform- 
ed, has  discovered  that  Beaumarchais  profited  by  the  poverty  of  Gudin 
to  make  him  write  those  works  which  are  published  under  the  name  of 
the  former?  Independently  of  numerous  other  impossibilities  which 
are  involved  by  such  a  supposition,  it  is  at  once  destroyed  by  reading 
Gudin,  whose  prose  resembles  that  of  Beaumarchais  about  as  much  as 
an  ox  resembles  a  spirited  horse. 

*  This  edition,  published  in  seven  volumes  by  Gudin  in  1809,  has 
been  the  model  of  all  the  subsequent  editions  of  Beaumarchais.  It  is 
far  from  being  complete.  Not  only  has  Gudin  omitted  several  literary 
productions  of  Beaumarchais,  with  which  he  was  perhaps  unacquainted, 
but  he  has  even  suppressed  some  very  interesting  historical  documents 
from  political  reasons ;  and,  from  the  same  motives,  he  has  only  pub- 
lished a  very  small  number — and  those  not  always  the  most  interesting 
—o{  the  mass  of  letters  which  Beaomarchais  left. 


INTKODUCTION.  21 

pears  to  have  objected  to  the  publication  of  this  biography, 
from  motives  which  I  find  indicated  in  a  note  in  her  own  hand- 
#writing.  Madame  de  Beaumarchais  remarks  with  much  sense 
that,  instead  of  contenting  himself  with  relating  the  life  of  his 
friend,  Gudin,  the  old  philosopher  of  the  eighteenth  century, 
who  has  learned  nothing  and  forgotten  nothing,  mixes  with 
his  narrative  a  host  of  anti-religious  declamations  of  his  own, 
which  have  lost  all  their  force  in  1809 ;  that  he  thus  renders 
himself  liable,  Avithout  wishing  it,  not  only  to  compromise  the 
memory  of  Beaumarchais,  but  also  to  disturb  the  peace  of 
mind  of  his  family,  whom  "the  critics,"  adds  his  widow, 
"would  perhaps  wish  to  make  responsible  for  the  opinions  of 
the  philosophical  sect,  a  sect  which  is  so  much  cried  down  in  the 
present  day"  Gudin,  who  was  a  good  man,  putting  his  philos- 
ophy out  of  the  question,  and  who  was  devoted  to  Madame 
de  Beaumarchais,  sacrificed  his  work  to  these  considerations. 
He  contented  himself  with  extracting  from  it  a  chapter  on  the 
drama  and  comedies  of  his  friend,  which  he  placed  at  the  end 
of  the  seventh  volume  of  the  edition  of  1809,  and  his  "  His- 
tory of  Beaumarchais"  met  with  the  fate  of  his  "  History  of 
France  :"  it  remained  in  manuscript.  This  manuscript  is  not 
always  very  exact,  above  all  as  regards  the  first  part  of  the 
life  of  Beaumarchais,  with  which  Gudin  was  not  acquainted 
from  his  own  personal  experience,  and  for  which  he  does  not 
seem  to  have  consulted  the  materials  which  I  have  under  my 
eyes.  It  contains  also  many  idle  dissertations  quite  away  from 
the  subject,  with  continual  and  most  exaggerated  laudations, 
which  somewhat  remind  us  of  the  bear  and  the  paving-stone. 
At  the  same  time,  several  curious  facts,  hitherto  unknown,  are 
to  be  found  in  it,  which  will  be  useful  for  the  work  I  have  un- 
dertaken. 

Such  are  the  circumstances  which  determined  me  to  give 
an  attentive  study  to  the  unpublished  documents  which  had 
been  intrusted  to  rae,  and  to  give  to  the  result  of  this  study 
more  space  than  would  be  necessary  in  the  case  of  a  simple 
biography.  It  appeared  to  me  that  this  was  a  favorable  oc- 
casion for  endeavoring  to  paint  Beaumarchais  and  his  times, 
and  that  in  this  instance  the  history  of  an  individual  might 
throw  some  light  upon  the  history  of  an  entire  epoch ;  for  the 


22  BEATJMAECHAIS   AND   HIS    TIMES. 

man  of  whom  we  are  speaking  sprung  from  the  lower  ranks 
of  society,  went  in  a  certain  manner  through  eveiy  social  po- 
sition. The  astonishing  variety  of  his  qualifications  brought 
him  into  contact  with  the  most  different  kinds  of  persons  and 
things,  and  urged  him  to  play,  turn  by  turn  and  sometimes 
simultaneously,  the  most  different  parts.  "Watchmaker,  mu- 
sician, song-writer,  dramatist,  comic  writer,  man  of  fashion, 
courtier,  man  of  business,  financier,  manufacturer,  publisher, 
shipowner,  contractor,  secret  agent,  negotiator,  pamphleteer, 
orator  on  certain  occasions,  a  peaceful  man  by  taste  and  yet 
always  at  law,  engaging  like  Figaro  in  every  occupation,  Beau- 
marchais  was  concerned  in  most  of  the  events,  great  or  small, 
which  preceded  the  Revolution. 

Almost  at  the  same  moment  we  see  him,  after  being  con- 
demned to  civic  degradation  by  the  Maupeou  Parliament, 
bring  about  the  overthrow  of  his  judges,  produce  the  "Barber 
of  Seville,"  correspond  secretly  from  London  with  Louis  XVI., 
and,  though  not  yet  recovered  from  the  effect  of  the  judicial 
sentence  which  still  presses  upon  him,  his  credit  exhausted,  his 
goods  seized,  we  see  him  obtain  from  the  king  himself  a  mill- 
ion of  francs,  with  which  he  originates  and  fosters  the  inter- 
vention of  France  in  the  quarrel  between  England  and  her 
American  colonies.  A  short  time  afterward,  still  composing 
songs,  comedies,  and  operas,  and  always  having  two  or  three 
lawsuits  on  hand,  Beaumarchais  trades  in  the  four  quarters 
of  the  globe  ;  he  has  forty  vessels  of  his  own  on  the  sea ;  his 
navy  fights  side  by  side  with  that  of  the  state  at  the  battle  of 
Grenada,  his  officers  are  decorated,  he  discusses  the  expenses 
of  the  war  with  the  king,  and  treats  with  the  United  States, 
as  one  power  would  do  with  another. 

Powerful  enough  to  do  all  this,  powerful  enough  to  get  "  Fi- 
garo" produced  on  the  stage  in  spite  of  Louis  XVI.,  and  to 
get  the  first  general  edition  of  Voltaire  printed  in  spite  of  the 
clergy  and  the  magistracy,  Beaumarchais  was  not  even  able  to 
insure  respect  for  his  own  person,  and  to  save  himself,  in  the 
midst  of  all  his  splendor,  at  the  age  of  fifty-three,  from  being 
arrested  one  fine  morning,  without  rhyme  or  reason,  and  shut 
up  for  several  days  in  a  house  of  correction  like  some  young 
scapegrace.     Yet  at  the  same  time  he  appeared  as  the  patron 


INTRODCCTION.  23 

of  men  of  letters,  whose  interests  he  advocated  with  the  min- 
isters ;  was  in  continual  communication,  as  financier,  and  even 
as  special  agent  and  councilor,  with  ]MM.  de  Sartines,  de  Mau- 
repas,  de  Vergennes,  de  Necker,  and  de  Calonne ;  was  courted 
by  the  nobles,  who  borrowed  money  from  him  and  frequently 
forgot  to  return  it,  interceded  on  behalf  even  of  princes*  with 
the  Archbishop  of  Paris,  and  was  contributing  powerfully,  but 
involuntarily,  as  will  be  seen,  to  the  destruction  of  the  mon- 
archy. 

Persecuted  under  the  Republic  as  an  aristocrat,  after  having 
been  imprisoned  for  his  opposition  under  the  royalty,  the  ex- 
agent  of  Louis  XVI.  became  all  the  same,  and  in  spite  of  him- 
self, the  agent  and  commissary  of  the  Committee  of  Public 
Safety.  His  appointment  of  commissary,  instead  of  placing 
him  beyond  peril,  endangered  his  life,  and  gave  the  last  blow 
to  his  fortune.  Originally  poor,  after  having  made  his  fortune 
and  lost  it  again  two  or  three  times,  he  now  saw  all  his  prop- 
erty seized  upon,  and,  after  having  possessed  an  income  of 
150,000  francs,  Beaumarchais,  in  his  old  age  proscribed,  con- 
cealed under  a  false  name  in  his  garret  at  Hamburgh,  was  re- 
duced for  a  time  to  such  a  degree  of  want  that  he  was  obliged, 
as  he  says,  to  economize  his  matches  so  as  to  be  able  to  use 
each  of  them  twice.f 

On  his  return  to  his  native  land,  at  the  age  of  fifty-five,  in 
ill  health,  deaf,  but  still  indefatigable,  Beaumarchais,  while 
with  more  than  the  energy  of  youth  he  was  mixing  himself 
tip  with  all  the  affairs  of  the  day,  at  the  same  time  superin- 
tended the  production  of  his  last  drama,  the  "  Guilty  Mother," 
collected  courageously  the  remains  of  his  fortune,  and  recom- 

*  The  Prince  of  Xassau  Siegen,  a  very  romantic  person,  who  will  be 
spoken  of  farther  on.  He  had  married  a  Polish  lady  who  had  been 
divorced,  and  who  applied  to  the  Archbishop  of  Paris,  through  the  in- 
tercession of  Beaumarchais,  to  have  her  marriage  legitimized. 

t  The  following  is  what  I  read  on  some  detached  leaves  written  by 
Beaumarchais  at  Hamburgh  in  1794 :  "  In  my  distress  I  have  become 
so  economical  as  to  put  out  a  match  and  keep  it,  so  that  I  may  use  it  a 
second  time.  I  only  perceived  that  I  did  so  upon  reflection,  being 
driven  to  it  by  the  wretchedness  of  my  position.  This  is  only  worth  re- 
marking from  the  fact  that  from  an  income  of  150,000  francs  I  have 
suddenly  fallen  into  utter  want." 


24  BEAUMARCHAIS   AND   HIS   TIMES. 

menced,  with  one  foot  in  the  grave,  all  the  labors  of  his  life, 
defended  himself  against  a  legion  of  creditors,  prosecuted  a  le- 
gioil  of  debtors,  and  died,  with  lawsuits  pending  both  against 
the  French  Republic  and  the  KepubUc  of  the  United  States. 

This  sketch  of  a  most  varied  life,  which  I  propose  to  relate 
in  detail,  will  be  suflScient,  I  think,  to  cause  the  many-sided 
interest  which  is  attached  to  it  to  be  appreciated.  It  is  not 
only  because  it  is  romantic  and  full  of  vicissitudes — it  is  also, 
and  above  all,  because  it  is  full  of  contrasts  and  incoherence 
that  the  life  of  Beaumarchais  is  worth  being  examined  care- 
fully as  the  expression  and  reflection  of  an  entire  period.  Is 
not  his  life,  diSbrm  and  heterogeneous  as  it  was,  the  most  faith- 
ful picture  of  a  social  system,  which  becomes  dissolved  and  de- 
composed by  the  continually-increasing  discord  between  ideas 
and  institutions,  manners,  and  laws  ? 

Beaumarchais'  personal  character  has  been  much  cried 
down ;  different  causes — some  of  which  are  connected  with 
circumstances,  others  with  the  man  himself — have  conspired 
to  get  him  numerous  enemies.  In  this  work  the  object  will 
be,  not  to  poetize  his  nature,  but  to  show  it  as  it  was,  and  un- 
der all  aspects.  If  it  will  gain  in  being  presented  thus  in  all 
its  truth  to  those  who,  judging  the  man  by  the  statements  of 
his  adversaries,  had  only  looked  upon  him  as  a  daring  and 
clever  intriguer,  it  will  lose,  perhaps,  in  the  opinion  of  those 
who,  in  order  to  save  themselves  the  trouble  of  studying  de- 
tails and  shades  of  character,  take  men  in  the  mass,  and  think 
they  have  explained  the  author  of  the  "Marriage  of  Figaro" 
when  they  have  said,  "  He  was,  in  his  own  way,  a  great  rev- 
olutionist." It  will  be  seen  in  what  sense  and  to  what  extent 
Beaumarchais  was  a  revolutionist ;  it  wiU  be  seen  that  he  was 
soon  left  behind  by  the  Revolution,  and  that  he  was  often  as 
ardent  in  his  resistance  to  the  excesses  of  the  new  regime  as 
he  had  been  in  his  attacks  upon  the  abuses  of  the  old. 

If  there  still  remains  much  to  be  said  about  the  life  and 
character  of  Beaumarchais,  his  talent  has  already  been  the 
subject  of  numerous  criticisms.*     It  is,  however,  stiU  possible 

*  It  will  be  sufficient  to  quote  here,  independently  of  La  Ilarpe's 
notice,  and  of  the  recent  notice  by  M.  Sainte  Beuve,  above  alluded  to, 
the  veiy  hostile,  and  often  very  unjust  articles  of  the  celebrated  critic 


BEKTH   OF    BEAUMAKCHAIS.  25 

to  go  rather  farther  than  has  yet  been  done  into  the  literary 
questions  which  the  mention  of  his  name  at  once  raises,  both 
as  regards  serious  drama  and  comedy.  To  the  severe  criti- 
cisxas  of  La  Harpe  and  the  still  more  severe  criticisms  of  G^of- 
froy,  Beaumarcliais  opposes  the  best  possible  argument — that 
of  success ;  not  the  success  of  a  day,  which  proves  nothing, 
but  living  and  durable  success,  which  resists  changes  in  taste 
and  feshion,  the  caprices  of  opinion,  and  those  very  revolu- 
tions which  seemed  to  have  produced  it,  and  from  which  it 
appeared  inseparable.  Whatever  may  be  thought  of  the  nature 
of  his  talent  and  of  its  defects,  the  author  of  the  "  Marriage  of 
Figaro"  belongs  to  the  very  small  number  of  writers  of  the 
eighteenth  century  who  are  still  acted  and  still  read.  There  is, 
accordingly,  a  reason  for  studying  the  types  he  created,  the  in- 
novations he  introduced  on  the  stage  and  elsewhere,  the  very 
forms  of  his  style — in  a  word,  all  the  elements  of  which  his 
literary  physiognomy  is  composed. 


CHAPTER  I. 

Birth  of  Beaumarchais. — His  Family.  —  The  Home  of  a  small  Bour- 
geois in  the  Eighteenth  Century. — Julie  Beaumarchais  as  the  Dying 
Swan. 

Peerke  AuGUSxm  Caron,  who  at  twenty-five  years  of  age 
assumed  the  name  of  Beaumarchais,  was  bom  on  the  24th  of 
January,  1732,  in  a  watchmaker's  shop  in  the  Rue  de  la  Fe- 
ronnerie,  and  close  to  that  house  in  the  market  where  it  was 
for  a  long  time  thought  Moliere  was  born.  The  error  is  at 
present  known ;  but  if  this  St.  Denis  quarter,  which  is  not 
looked  upon  as  the  centre  of  brilliancy,  and  which  enjoys  in 

of  the  empire,  Gteoffroy,  which  are  to  be  found  in  the  collection  of  his 
JeuiUetons  published  under  the  title  of  "  Course  of  Dramatic  Literature," 
the  more  sensible  and  elegant  articles  by  M.  de  Feletz,  the  pages  full 
of  life  and  brilliancy,  which  form  part  of  M.  Villemain's  "Course  of 
French  Literature  in  the  Eighteenth  Centurj-,"  but  which  only  relate  to 
Beaumarchais'  "  Memorials  against  Goezman ;"  and,  finally,  an  inge- 
nious and  animated  sketch  by  IVL  Saint-Marc  Guardin,  pubUshed  in  his 
'^Literary  and  Moral  Essays." 

B 


26  BEAUMAKCHAIS   AND   HIS  TIMES. 

Paris  about  the  same  reputation  that  Boeotia  had  in  Greece, 
must  resign  the  honor  of  having  given  birth  to  MoHere,  it  can 
console  itself  for  it  to  a  certain  extent,  since  it  has  the  right 
to  claim  as  its  natives  not  only  Regnard,  our  first  comic  poet 
after  Moliere,  not  only  the  author  of  the  "Marriage  of  Figaro," 
but  also  M.  Scribe,  who  was  also  bom  in  the  heart  of  the  Rue 
St.  Denis,  in  a  mercer's  shop,  and  of  Beranger,  who  came  into 
the  world  not  far  off,  at  a  tailor's  in  the  Rue  Montorgueil. 

When  it  is  known  that  Beaumarchais,  at  the  age  of  twenty- 
four,  was  stiU  engaged  in  the  paternal  occupation ;  that  he 
passed,  almost  without  a  transition,  from  his  life  as  a  watch- 
maker to  his  life  at  court — to  a  sort  of  intimacy  with  princes 
and  princesses  of  the  blood-royal,  and  that  in  this  position, 
with  all  its  novelty,  he  was  able  to  make  sufficient  figure  to 
gain  some  friends  and  a  great  many  enemies — ^when  this  is 
considered,  it  appears  desirable  to  inquire  what  influences  he 
had  received  from  family  and  education,  which  up  to  a  cer^ 
tain  point  might  have  prepai'ed  him  for  his  unexpected  part. 

His  family  was  humble  enough ;  and  it  is  not  without  a  cer- 
tain feeling  of  astonishment  that  we  enter  their  home,  and  find 
their  habits,  manners,  and  mental  cultivation  so  far  superior 
to  what  might  have  been  expected  in  the  household  of  a  small 
tradesman.  The  progress  of  the  middle  classes  during  the 
eighteenth  century  never  struck  me  more  forcibly  than  when 
looking  over  the  obscure  archives  of  the  family  of  a  small 
watchmaker  in  the  Rue  St.  Denis.  The  reader  will  be  en- 
abled to  judge  soon  whether,  in  a  sphere  of  life  exactly  simi- 
lar, the  level  of  intellectual  and  social  cultivation  has  not  been 
lowered  rather  than  raised.  The  inferiority  of  cultivation  in 
the  shop-keeping  class  of  the  present  day,  which  is  quite  rec- 
oncilable with  the  general  progi*ess  of  the  masses,  might  be 
explained,  perhaps  above  all  in  Paris,  by  this  consideration, 
that  in  the  eighteenth  century  the  existence  of  a  highly-refined 
aristocracy  about  the  court,  which  associated  more  and  more 
every  day  with  the  trading  classes,  without,  however,  mixing 
itself  up  with  them,  kept  up  a  sort  of  emulation  among  them 
in  manners  and  dress,  which  at  the  present  time  has  entirely 
disappeared.  I  find  this  idea  confirmed  by  Beaumarchais 
himself,  in  an  unpubhshed  letter  which  he  wrote  to  his  father 


BEAIJMAKCHAIS'    DESCENT.  27 

from  lVIadi*id  in  1768 :  "  The  bourgeoises  of  Madrid,"  he  writes, 
"  are  the  most  stupid  creatures  in  the  universe ;  very  different 
from  what  they  are  in  our  country,  where  refinement  in  man- 
ners and  conversation  are  now  found  in  all  classes." 

An  instance  of  this  universal  inclination  in  the  eighteenth 
century  for  refinement  in  manners  and  conversation  is  indeed 
found  in  his  own  family.  Let  us  first  of  all  make  acquaint- 
ance with  the  father. 

Andre  Charles  Caron  came  from  the  ancient  province  of 
Brie.  He  was  born  April  26th,  1698,  near  Meaux,  at  Lizy- 
sur-Ourcq,  a  little  village,  which  has  now  become  a  little 
town,  in  the  department  of  Seine  and  Mame.  He  was  the 
son  of  Daniel  Caron,  a  watchmaker  at  Lizy,  and  of  Marie 
Fortain,  both  of  them  Calvinist  Protestants.  His  family  was 
numerous  and  poor,  to  judge  from  the  family  papers.  It  is 
well  known  that  after  the  revocation  of  the  Edict  of  Nantes, 
in  1685,  Protestants  had  no  legal  existence  in  France.  Inde- 
pendently of  the  persecutions  directed  against  those  who  per- 
formed any  of  their  religious  ceremonies,  their  marriages  and 
their  children  were  considered  illegitimate.  One  of  the  Prot- 
estant churches  which  resisted  this  system  of  oppression  the 
most  strenuously  was  the  reformed  church  of  Brie.  It  yielded 
neither  to  the  eloquence  of  Bossuet  nor  to  the  dragonnades* 
and  the  Protestants  continued  to  have  their  unions  blessed  in 
the  desert — that  is  to  say,  in  a  secluded  retreat  at  the  back 
of  a  wood — by  some  wandering  and  fugitive  pastor.  Thus, 
without  doubt,  were  the  grandfather  and  grandmother  of 
Beaumarchais  married  at  Lizy,  in  1694 ;  and  it  was  perhaps 
by  the  hand  of  one  of  these  fugitive  pastors  that  the  names 
of  the  children  of  Daniel  Caron  and  Marie  Fortain  were  writ- 
ten on  a  little  book,  which  I  have  now  under  my  eyes,  and 
which  is  like  a  book  for  housekeeping  accounts.  These  hum- 
ble archives  of  a  Protestant  family  commence  with  this  pious 
inscription:  "May  our  help  and  beginning  be  in  God,  who 
has  made  all  things.  Amen.  1695."  Then  follows  the  list 
of  fourteen  children,  several  of  whom  died  at  a  tender  age, 
and  of  whom  Andre  Charles  Caron  is  the  fourth. 

*  Sec  the  "  History  of  the  Churches  of  the  Desert  among  the  Prot- 
estants of  France,"  by  Charles  Coquerel,  vol.  ii.,  p.  613. 


28  BEAUMAKCHAIS   AND   HIS   TIMES. 

Beaumarchais,  in  a  petition  to  the  king,  represents  himself 
as  nephew,  on  the  father's  side,  of  an  uncle  who  died  a  cap- 
tain of  grenadiers,  with  the  cross  of  St.  Louis  ;  as  cousin,  on 
the  same  side,  of  one  of  the  directors  of  the  India  Company, 
and  of  a  king's  secretary,  which  would  seem  to  indicate  that 
his  father's  family  was  related  to  some  families  in  a  much 
higher  position  than  his  own.  It  is  certain,  however,  that 
his  father  was  born  in  a  poor  and  humble  station.  While 
still  very  young,  Andre  Charles  Caron  enlisted  in  the  Roche- 
pierre  regiment  of  dragoons,  under  the  name  of  Caron  d' Ailly. 
After  a  period  of  service  which  must  have  been  rather  short, 
he  obtained,  for  some  cause  or  other,  his  final  discharge  on 
the  5th  of  February,  1721.  He  then  came  to  Paris  to  study 
the  art  of  watchmaking,  and  a  month  after  his  arrival  abjured 
Calvinism,  as  appears  from  a  certificate,  signed  by  the  Car- 
dinal de  Noailles,  which  I  have  before  me,  and  which  is  pre- 
ceded by  a  declaration  in  the  following  words : 

"  On  the  7th  of  March,  1721, 1  pronounced  my  abjuration  of  the 
heresy  of  Calvin  at  Paris,  in  the  Church  of  the  new  Catholics. 

"(Signed),  Andre  Charles  Caron." 

Beaumarchais,  then,  was  bom  a  Catholic,  of  a  father  who, 
from  Protestantism,  had  returned  to  the  bosom  of  Catholi- 
cism ;  his  recollection  of  the  religion  of  his  ancestors  probably 
added  its  influence  to  his  natural  instinct  for  opposition,  and 
will,  at  all  events,  assist  us  in  explaining  the  zeal  which  he 
will  be  seen  to  display  about  all  questions  which  interest  the 
Protestants. 

A  year  after  his  abjuration,  Andre  Charles  Caron  ad- 
dressed a  petition  to  the  king  in  council,  in  order  to  be  re- 
ceived as  a  master  watchmaker,  although  he  had  not  yet 
served  the  necessary  term  of  apprenticeship.  In  this  petition 
the  petitioner  called  attention  to  his  abjuration  in  support 
of  his  prayer,  which  seems  to  indicate  that  at  this  period  it 
was  necessary  to  be  a  Catholic  in  order  to  exercise  the  pro- 
fession of  watchmaker.*     Some  doubts  might  be  suggested  by 

*  It  appears,  indeed,  from  the  Appendix  of  M.  Coquerel's  work,  that 
the  certificate  of  Catholicism  was  at  last  made  necessary  for  admission 
into  all  the  corporations  of  workmen. 


BEAUMAECHAIS'    FATHER.  29 

this  as  to  the  disinterestedness  of  the  father's  conversion; 
but  these  doubts  disappear  on  reading  his  private  letters,  in 
which  he  appears  to  us  practicing  all  the  duties  of  his  new 
religion  with  zeal,  animated  with  a  sincere  fervor,  and  at  the 
same  time  making  use  of  certain  austere  forms  of  speech 
which  he  probably  retained  from  his  former  creed. 

Four  months  after  being  received  a  master  watchmaker, 
on  the  13th  of  July,  1722,  Andre  Charles  Caron  married 
Marie  Louise  Pichon,  whose  father  is  spoken  of  in  the  act  of 
marriage  as  a  "citizen  of  Paris."  She  was  an  excellent  per- 
son, but  of  rather  ordinary  intellect,  to  judge  of  her  by  some 
of  our  documents.  As  for  Charles  Caron,  his  correspondence 
exhibits  him  in  the  light  of  a  man  who  is  very  superior  to 
his  position.  Indeed  watchmaking,  from  its  connection  with 
the  exact  sciences,  is  the  first  of  the  mechanical  arts ;  but 
Caron  had  given  himself  a  scientific  education  far  beyond  that 
usually  possessed  by  a  watchmaker;  accordingly,  in  1746  he 
was  sufficiently  celebrated  for  his  knowledge  of  mechanics  to 
be  consulted  by  the  Governor  of  Madrid  on  the  employment 
of  certain  machines  for  dragging  harbors  and  rivers,  and  he 
explains  himself  upon  the  subject  with  all  the  precision  and 
authority  of  a  highly  competent  person.  In  spite,  perhaps 
even  on  account,  of  his  talents,  Beaumarchais'  father  could 
never  succeed  in  making  his  fortune.  He  met  with  losses  in 
his  business  as  a  watchmaker  and  jeweler,  and  finally,  dur- 
ing the  last  years  of  his  life,  had  only  a  life  pension  to  subsist 
upon,  which  was  allowed  him  by  his  son. 

The  literary  acquirements  of  Beaumarchais'  father  were  no 
less  remarkable  for  his  station  than  his  scientific  attainments  ; 
above  aU,  when  it  is  considered  that  after  leaving  a  little  vil- 
lage to  become  first  a  dragoon  and  afterward  a  watchmaker, 
he  owed  every  thing  he  knew  to  himself.  His  style  is,  in  gen- 
eral, good,  sometimes  elegant,  with  that  tinge  of  fervent  piety 
of  which  I  was  just  now  speaking,  which  was  curious  enough 
at  that  epoch,  and  which  is  never  found  in  Beaumarchais  him- 
self. 

Here,  for  instance,  is  a  letter  which  he  writes  to  his  son,, 
and  in  which  the  reader  will  perceive — probably  with  some 
surprise — that  the  future  author  of  the  "  Marriage  of  Figaro'* 


30  BEAUMARCHAIS   AND   HIS   TIMES. 

is  compared  by  his  father  to  Sir  Charles  Grandison.  This 
letter  bears  the  date  of  a  period  when  Beaumarchais  had  as 
yet  no  literary  reputation ;  but  he  had  already  made  his  for- 
tune, and  was  behaving,  as  he  always  did,  like  an  excellent 
son. 

"Paris,  ISth  December,  1764. 

"  You  desire  me  in  your  modest  manner  to  love  you  a  little.  It  is 
not  possible  for  me  to  do  so,  my  dear  son  :  a  son  like  yourself  is  not 
made  to  be  loved  only  a  Uttle  by  a  father  who  thinks  and  feels  as  I 
do.  The  tears  of  affection  which  fall  from  my  eyes  upon  this  paper 
are  a  proof  of  it ;  for  the  qualities  of  your  excellent  heart,  the  strength 
and  greatness  of  your  mind,  fill  me  with  the  most  tender  love.  Hon- 
or of  my  gray  hairs,  my  son,  my  dear  son,  how  have  I  merited  from 
God  the  favors  he  lavishes  upon  me  through  you  1  In  my  opinion, 
the  greatest  favor  he  can  grant  to  a  kind  and  loving  father  is  a  son 
like  yourself  My  acute  pains  left  me  yesterday,  otherwise  I  should 
not  have  been  able  to  write  to  you.  I  was  five  days  and  four  nights 
without  eating  or  sleeping,  and  without  ceasing  to  cry  out.  During 
the  intervals  of  my  suffering  I  read  Grandison,  and  in  how  many 
points  did  I  not  find  a  just  and  noble  resemblance  between  Grandi- 
son and  my  own  son !  Father  of  your  sisters,  friend  and  benefactor 
of  your  father,  if  England,  I  said  to  myself,  has  her  Grandison, 
France  has  her  Beaumarchais,  with  this  difference,  that  the  English 
Grandison  is  only  the  fiction  of  an  amiable  writer,  while  the  French 
Beaumarchais  really  exists  for  the  consolation  of  my  days.  If  a  son 
honors  himself  in  praising  a  worthy  father,  why  should  I  not  be  per- 
mitted to  boast  of  my  dear  son,  while,  at  the  same  lime,  I  am  only 
doing  him  justice  ? 

"  Farewell,  my  dear  child.  I  wound  your  modesty ;  so  much  the 
better :  you  only  appear  more  amiable  to  the  eyes  and  heart  of  yoiu: 
affectionate  father  and  friend,  Caron." 

The  unpublished  letters  of  Beaumarchais  to  his  father  are 
characterized  by  filial  affection,  and  at  the  same  time  by  the 
most  profound  respect.  When  he  has  become  a  frequenter  of 
the  court,  and  is  at  the  height  of  his  opulence  and  aristocratic 
position,  he  never  writes  to  the  old  watchmaker  without  be- 
ginning his  letters  thus:  '■'^  Monsieur  and  dearest  father  "  while 
he  always  finishes  with  "  /  have  the  honor  to  be,  monsieur  and 
dearest  father,  with  the  most  respectful  attachment,  your  very  hum- 
ble and  very  obedient  servant  and  son."  Sometimes,  however, 
the  respectful  correspondent  emancipates  himself  a  little,  and 


BEAUMAECHAIS'    FATHER.  31 

goes  SO  far  as  to  address  badinage  to  his  father ;  and  it  is  then 
amusing  enough  to  see  the  father  take  it  up,  and  enter  the  lists 
with  a  man  so  practiced  in  this  kind  of  contest  as  his  son.  We 
will  give  one  instance  of  this  out  of  several. 

Beaumarchais  is  at  Madrid,  occupied  with  a  hundred  things 
at  a  time — always  mixing  the  grave  with  the  gay,  the  lively 
with  the  severe — running  after  Clavigo,  visiting  the  ministers, 
embassadors,  and  theatres,  studying  politics  and  literature,  or- 
ganizing various  industrial  enterprises,  passing  his  evenings  in 
drawing-rooms,  playing  the  harp,  composing,  singing  seguedil- 
las,  and  paying  court  to  the  ladies. 

At  another  time  Beaumai'chais  not  only  occupies  himself 
with  getting  his  sisters  married,  but  also  takes  it  into  his  head 
to  find  a  wife  for  his  father,  who  has  become  a  widower.  He 
wants  him  to  marry  a  Madame  Henry,  who  was  herself  the 
widow  of  a  Consul  des  Marchands,  rather  advanced  in  years, 
but  very  amiable,  to  judge  from  her  correspondence;  she  pos- 
sessed some  fortune,  and  had  long  been  intimate  with  the  Ca- 
ron  family. 

'*  I  am  not  astonished,"  he  writes  from  Madrid  to  his  father,  "  at 
your  attachment  to  IMadame  Henry ;  she  has  a  most  cheerful  dispo- 
sition, and  one  of  the  best  hearts  I  know.  I  wish  you  had  been  suf- 
ficiently happy  to  inspire  her  with  a  wanner  return  of  your  affection. 
She  would  make  you  happy,  and  you  might  certainly  induce  her  to 
make  the  agreeable  experiment  of  a  union  founded  upon  mutual  af- 
fection and  an  esteem  of  twenty-five  years.  If  I  were  you,  I  know 
how  I  should  set  about  it,  and  if  I  were  in  her  place,  I  also  know  how 
I  should  reply ;  but  I  am  neither  one  nor  the  other,  and  it  is  not  my 
business  to  unravel  this  knot  of  yours :  I  have  enough  to  do  with  my 
own." 

To  this  challenge  the  father  replies,  in  a  letter  dated  the 
19th  of  September,  1764. 

"  We  supped  yesterday  with  my  dear  amiable  friend,  who  laughed 
heartily  at  what  you  say  in  your  letter  about  the  means  you  would 
adopt  if  you  w^ere  in  my  place.  Accordingly,  she  says  she  should  be 
careful  how  she  trusted  you,  and  that,  if  she  now  embraces  you  with 
all  her  heart,  it  is  only  because  you  are  at  three  hundred  leagues  dis- 
tance from  her." 

However,  with  the  assistance  of  his  son,  the  father  succeed- 


S2  BEAOIARCHAIS  AKD   HIS   TIMES. 

ed  in  making  the  conquest  of  Madame  Heniy,  who  was  then 
sixty  years  of  age,  and  whom  he  mairied  on  the  loth  of  Jan- 
uary, 1766,  being  himself  seventy-seven  years  of  age.  After 
being  married  two  years  he  lost  his  second  wife,  and  some, 
months  before  his  death  married  again,  but  this  time  without 
the  consent  and  even  without  the  knowledge  of  his  son.  The 
person  who  became  his  wife  w^as  a  cunning  old  maid,  who  paid 
him  great  attention,  and  got  married  to  him  in  hopes  of  being 
able  to  extract  money  from  Beaumarchais.  Profiting  by  the 
weakness  of  the  old  man,  she  had  made  him  assign  to  her  in 
the  marriage  contract  a  dowry  and  a  share  in  his  property. 
Now  old  Caron  had  no  property  to  leave.  What  he  had  re- 
ceived with  his  second  wife  had  been  used  for  repaying  certain 
advances  made  by  his  son,  independently  of  the  regulair  income 
with  which  he  supplied  him.  The  accounts  had  been  gone 
over,  and  Beaumarchais  had  been  made  safe ;  but  his  father's 
third  wife — speculating  on  the  celebrity  of  her  son-in-law,  and 
on  his  dislike  to  a  lawsuit  of  so  delicate  a  nature  just  after  the 
Goezman  affair  had  been  settled — threatened  to  dispute  the 
accounts  and  to  make  the  matter  public.  For  the  first  time 
in  his  life  Beaumarchais  capitulated  to  an  adversary,  and  by 
means  of  a  sum  of  6000  fi'ancs  got  rid  of  the  person  in  ques- 
tion, who  appears  to  have  been  very  cunning,  very  bold,  and 
rather  witty,  to  judge  from  her  letters.  On  the  portfolio  con- 
taining the  papers  relating  to  this  affair,  I  read,  in  the  hand- 
writing of  Beaumarchais,  these  words :  "  The  infamous  con- 
duct of  my  father's  widow  forgiven."  It  is  to  the  influence 
of  this  cunning  old  woman  that  I  must  attribute  the  only 
period  "of  misunderstanding  between  the  father  and  the  son 
which  I  can  discover  in  a  correspondence  which  embraces  the 
fifteen  latter  years  of  the  father's  life.  I  must  add,  that  this 
misHuderstanding  only  lasted  for  an  instant,  for  a  letter  from 
the  father  on  his  death-bed  proves  that  the  good  feeling  be- 
tween his  son  and  himself  had  been  completely  re-established 
at  the  period  of  his  death,  which  took  place  at  the  end  of  Au- 
gust, 1775. 

In  order  to  complete  this  family  picture,  we  must  now  in- 
troduce Beaumarchais'  sisters.  He  had  five,  three  of  whom 
were  bom  before  him.     The  eldest,  Marie  Josephe  Caron,  who 


BEAITMAKCHAIS'    SISTEKS.  33 

was  married  to  an  architect  named  Guilbert,  established  her- 
self at  Madrid  with  her  husband  and  one  of  her  sisters.  They 
there  opened  a  milliner's  shop.  The  husband,  who  became 
architect  to  the  King  of  Spain,  went  mad  and  died :  his  widow 
returned  to  France  in  1772,  without  fortune  and  with  two 
children.  Beaumarchais  made  her  an  allowance  until  her 
death,  and  after  her  death  continued  it  to  her  children,  the  last 
of  whom  died  in  1785.  Beaumarchais'  second  sister,  Marie 
Louise  Caron,  who  is  called  Lisette  in  the  family  correspond- 
ence, was  Clavijo's  betrothed,  and  the  heroine  of  the  romantic 
episode  related  in  the  Memoir  against  Goezman,  which  Gothe 
made  the  subject  of  a  drama.*  The  documents  left  by  Beau- 
marchais do  not  give  us  much  information  about  Lisette.  It 
appears  that  she  possessed  both  wit  and  beauty.  After  the 
rupture  with  Clavijo,  there  was  some  idea  of  her  marrying  a 
friend  of  her  brother's ;  but  the  marriage  did  not  take  place. 
She  returned,  I  believe,  to  France  with  her  elder  sister,  and 
retired  with  her  into  the  convent  of  the  Ladies  of  the  Cross  at 
Koye,  in  Picardy.f 

Beaumarchais'  third  sister,  Madeleine  Fran^oise  Caron,  was 
married  in  1756  to  a  celebrated  watchmaker  named  Lepine. 
From  this  marriage  were  bom  a  son,  who  served  as  an  officer 

*  I  speak  of  Louise  Caron  immediately  after  her  elder  sister,  on  ac- 
count of  their  having  lived  together  in  Spain  ;  but,  although  I  could  not 
find  the  sister's  certificate  of  birth,  I  am  inclined  to  think  that  Louise 
Caron  was  the  third  in  point  of  age,  and  that  she  was  a  little  older  than 
Beaimiarchais — a  fact  which  would  somewhat  diminish  the  poetry  of 
her  adventure  with  Clavijo,  and  also  his  infamy,  as  the  heroine  of  the 
drama,  which  was  performed  in  1764,  would  at  the  time  have  been  at 
least  thirty- three  years  of  age. 

t  I  suppose  she  died  in  this  convent,  but  I  am  not  sure  of  it.  One 
of  Beaumarchais'  grandsons  thinks  he  remembers  having  heard  that  she 
died  in  America,  without,  however,  being  able  to  give  any  details  on 
the  subject.  It  has  been  stated,  T\-ith  reference  to  a  recent  drama  imi- 
tated from  "  Gothe's  Clavijo,"  that  Lisette  at  last  got  married.  The 
documents  before  me  disprove  that  statement.  One  thing  which  ap- 
pears certain  is,  that  she  had  ceased  to  exist  in  1775,  when  Caron  the 
father  died ;  for  in  the  judicial  acts  occasioned  by  his  decease  mention 
is  made  of  all  the  members  of  the  family,  and  Marie  Louise  Caron  is 
not  included  among  them.  It  still  seems  rather  strange  to  me  that  the 
sister,  whose  name  Beaumarchais  has  made  most  widely  known,  should 
be  the  very  one  of  whom  least  can  be  ascertained  from  his  papers. 

B2 


84  BEAUMARCHAIS   AND    HIS   TIMES. 

in  the  American  war,  under  the  name  of  Des  Epiniers,  and 
who  died  without  issue,  and  a  daughter,  who  was  married  to 
another  watchmaker,  M.  Raguet.  M.  Raguet  added  his  father- 
in-law's  name  to  his  own,  and  had  a  son,  M.  Raguet-Lepine, 
who,  under  Louis  Philippe's  government,  was  a  peer  of  France, 
and  who  recently  died. 

We  can  obtain  fuller  details  respecting  Beaumarchais'  two 
other  sisters.  They  lived  longer  with  him,  and  the  documents 
which  we  possess  in  connection  with  them  will  assist  us  in  de- 
picting the  homely  but  agreeable  and  cultivated  family  in  the 
bosom  of  which  the  author  of  the  "  Marriage  of  Figaro"  was 
brought  up. 

The  most  accomplished  of  the  five  daughters  of  the  watch- 
maker Caron  was  the  fourth,  Marie  Julie,  and  she  is  the  one 
whose  mental  disposition,  in  spite  of  some  shades  of  difierence, 
most  resembles  that  of  her  brother.  Beaumarchais,  in  a  note, 
represents  Julie  as  only  two  years  younger  than  himself  I 
see,  from  one  of  her  letters,  that  she  must  have  been  bom  in 
1735  or  1736,  and  consequently  that  she  was  three  or  four 
years  younger  than  he  was.  She  died  a  year  before  him,  and 
was  never  married.  Her  whole  life  was  devoted  to  the  inter- 
ests of  her  brother,  whom  she  loved  dearly,  and  by  whom  she 
was  dearly  loved.  When  the  author  of  the  "  Marriage  of  Fi- 
garo" took  the  name  of  Beaumarchais,  which  he  calls,  himself, 
a  nom  de  gueiTc,  he  gave  it  to  his  favorite  sister.  According- 
ly, after  her  brother's  celebrity,  it  was  under  the  name  of  Julie 
Beaumarchais  that  Julie  Caron  made  herself  celebrated  in  so- 
ciety, where  she  shone  as  much  by  the  keenness  of  her  wit  as 
by  the  amiability  of  her  disposition. 

Julie's  beauty  was  not  of  a  regular  description ;  her  nose 
was  rather  long,  and  she  ridicules  it  herself  very  good-humor- 
edly ;  but  she  had  a  pretty  figure,  a  lively  face,  and  charming 
eyes. 

Without  being  so  good  a  musician  as  her  younger  sister, 
Julie  had  a  great  talent  for  the  harp :  she  even  played  the 
violoncello.  She  understood  Italian  and  Spanish,  and  com- 
posed the  verses  and  music  of  a  number  of  songs,  which  she 
used  to  improvise  on  all  possible  occasions.  Her  verses  are 
in  general  more  remarkable  for  their  liveliness  than  for  their 


JULIE   BEAUMARCHAIS.  35 

poetic  value.  There  are,  nevertheless,  some  compositions  of 
hers  in  a  serious  style,  which  are  not  without  merit.  But  it 
is,  above  all,  in  her  familiar  letters  that  Julie's  wit  is  shown 
in  all  its  grace  and  vivacity.  She  died,  at  the  age  of  sixty- 
iwo,  in  May,  1798,  and  after  forty  days  of  intense  suffering. 
She  died  as  she  had  lived — always  true  to  herself,  and  always 
original.  Of  the  last  we  may  take  as  evidence  the,  to  say  the 
least,  curious  document  which  I  have  found  among  Beaumar- 
chais'  papers,  and  which  I  here  append.  The  verses  are  en- 
tirely in  his  handwriting. 

"  Couplet  written  and  sung  by  my  poor  sister  Julie  a  very  few  hours 

before  her  death,  to  the  tune  of [here  is  noted  down  the  air 

of  a  quadrille] : 

*  Je  me  donnerais  pour  deux  sous 

Sans  marchander  ma  personne ; 

Je  me  cederais  pour  deux  sous, 

Me  cederais  meme  au  dessons 

Si  I'on  m'en  donnait  six  blancs, 

J'en  ferais  mes  remerciments, 

Car  je  me  donne  pour  deux  sous. 

Sans  marchander,' "  etc.,  etc.* 
And  the  old  Beaumarchais  adds,  by  way  of  rider  to  this  re- 
markable morceau,  the  following  naive  if  not  amusing  reflec- 
tion: 

"  This  may  well,  indeed,  be  called  '  le  chant  du  cygne^  the  swan's 
dying  song ;  and  is  the  best  proof  of  strength  of  mind  and  tranquillity 
of  soul.     This  9th  May,  1798." 

Beaumarchais'  sister  died,  then,  almost  literally  singing; 
it  is  but  justice  to  inform  those  who  might  be  shocked  at  the 
species  of  mirth  in  the  face  of  death,  that  Julie  was  at  the 
time  a  true  and  professing  Christian ;  that  she  attended  to  all 
the  duties  imposed  by  religion  ;  and  that  her  will,  written  at 
this  very  period,  gives  evidence  of  a  grave  and  sincere  piety.f 

*  A  literal  translation  of  this  eccentric  confession  of  faith  has  not, 
for  obvious  reasons,  been  given.  It  may  be  sufficient  to  state  that  the 
free-spoken,  if  not  free-thinking,  lady  vigorously  denounces  any  thing 
resembling  mercenary  principles  in  love,  and  that  she  appraises  her  own 
charms  at  a  price  which  is  more  modest  than  the  avowal  itself  can  be 
said  to  be. 

+  She  bequeathed  to  her  niece  a  book  she  had  written  herself,  and  an- 
other entitled  "  The  Soul  elevated  to  Grod."    JuUe  writes  :  "  I  beg  you 


36  BEATIMABCHAIS   AKD   HIS  TIMES. 

To  her  friends  she  leaves  what  little  property  she  had  to  dis- 
pose of ;  and  after  beseeching  their  prayers  on  her  behalf,  she 
concludes  with  this  touching  passage,  addressed  to  Beaumar- 
chais: 

"  As  to  thee,  my  excellent  brother,  thee,  to  whom  I  am  indebted 
for  every  thing,  and  to  whom  I  can  give  back  nothing  but  undying- 
thanks  for  all  the  benefits  thou  hast  conferred  on  me,  if  it  be  true,  as 
I  believe  it  to  be,  that  the  noblest  portion  of  our  being  survives  the 
tomb,  my  soul,  grateful  and  tenderly  attached  to  thee,  shall  not  cease 
to  love  thee  through  all  time  and  through  all  eternity." 

A  few  details  respecting  the  fifth  daughter  of  the  watch- 
maker Caron  will  complete  the  tableau- of  animated  and  laugh- 
ing faces  that  suiTOunded  the  infancy  and  youth  of  Beaumar- 
chais.  Jeanne  Mar^erite  Caron  seems  to  have  received  a 
somewhat  brilliant  education.  She  was  an  excellent  musician  ; 
played  beautifully  on  the  harp ;  had  a  charming  voice ;  and, 
moreover,  was  exceedingly  pretty.  She  was  fond  of  verse- 
making,  like  her  sister  Julie,  and,  without  having  so  remark- 
able an  intelligence,  was  endowed  with  the  same  gay  and  live- 
ly wit  which  distinguished  all  the  family.  In  her  infancy,  and 
even  in  her  adolescence,  she  was  familiarly  called  "Tonton" 
— ^a  diminutive  of  Jeanne  and  Jeannette.  When  her  brother, 
metamorphosed  into  a  courtier,  had  assumed  the  more  grace- 
ful name  of  Beaumarchais,  and  had  allowed  his  sister  Julie  to 
share  it  with  him,  he  found  for  "Tonton"  a  pseudonym  which 
was  even  more  aristocratic — he  christened  her  Mademoiselle 
de  Boisgamier,  and  it  was  under  this  name  that  she  appeared 
with  great  success  in  society. 

Mademoiselle  Tonton  was  adored  by  and  tyrannized  over  a 
meek  martyr  of  a  young  man,  a  lover,  who  for  a  lengthened 
period  was  allowed  to  sigh  in  vain,  but  who  at  last,  after  years 
of  sentimental  anguish,  succeeded  in  striking  the  vulnerable 
part  of  this  disdainful  little  heart.  This  was  the  son  of  a  king's 
secretary,  Denis  Janot  by  name,  who,  on  purchasing  one  of 
those  appointments,  the  holding  of  which  conferred  nobility, 

to  keep  them  for  your  moments  of  serious  reflection,  and  may  the  mercy 
of  God  and  my  ardent  prayers  aiFord  you  many  such."  In  another  por- 
tion of  her  will  she  says  to  one  of  her  friends  to  whom  she  has  left  a 
token  of  remembrance,  "  My  tutelary  angel  will  obtain  mercy  for  mo 
by  his  prayers  and  heavenly  virtues." 


M.   DE   MTRON.  37 

had  transformed  his  somewhat  plebeian  name  into  that  of  Ja- 
not  de  iliron,  and  subsequently  into  De  Miron  alone.  Beau- 
marchais,  who  had  in  his  turn  purchased  the  place  held  by  the 
father  of  De  ]Miron,  was  very  intimate  with  his  son.  The  lat- 
ter, a  qualified  advocate  of  the  Parliament,  was  afterward  nom- 
inated accountant  to  the  institution  of  the  Dames  de  St.  Cyr. 
He  was  an  intimate  friend  of  the  Caron  family,  and  fell  deeply 
in  love  with  Mademoiselle  de  Boisgamier,  who,  without  giving 
him  a  positive  denial,  yet  found  him  so  deficient  in  elegance  of 
manner  that  she  did  not  feel  very  anxious  to  accept  him  as  a 
husband.  Beaumarchais,  while  making  every  allowance  for 
his  sister's  scruples,  could  not,  however,  repress  his  sympathies 
on  behalf  of  his  friend,  De  Miron. 

One  day,  on  learning  that  Beaumarchais  had  in  contempla- 
tion another  husband  for  Mademoiselle  de  Boisgamier,  De  Mi- 
ron took  offense,  and  wrote  to  him  at  Madrid,  where  he  then 
was,  a  letter  couched  in  the  most  indignant  terms.  Beaumar- 
chais, in  a  moment  of  irritation,  replied  in  terms  of  equal  in- 
dignation. Mademoiselle  de  Boisgamier  took  the  part  of  her 
brother  against  her  lover.  Poor  De  Miron  felt  himself  on  the 
point  of  being  absolutely  discarded,  when  Beaumarchais  — 
whose  anger  was  never  of  more  than  momentary  duration — 
having  had  time  to  recall  all  the  amiable  qualities  of  his  friend, 
undertook  to  intercede  for  De  JMiron  with  ISIademoiselle  Ton- 
ton  ;  and  Mademoiselle  de  Boisgamier,  provided  by  her  broth- 
er's care  with  a  suitable  dowry,  was  married  to  M.  de  Miron 
in  1767.  Her  husband,  through  Beaumarchais'  influence,  was 
at  a  later  period  appointed  secretary  "  des  commandment^^  to 
the  Prince  de  Conde. 

Mademoiselle  de  Miron  formed  the  centre  figure  of  a  most 
agreeable  social  circle.  She  was  always  happy  to  receive  art- 
ists and  literary  men.  In  Gudin's  MSS.  we  learn  that  the 
Abbe  Delille  was  in  the  habit  of  reading  in  her  salons  his  un- 
published verses.  She  fiUed,  with  no  small  credit,  parts  in  the 
^^parades"^  or  burlesque  pieces  composed  by  Beaumarchais,  of 
which  one  very  amusing  specimen  has  come  down  to  us  under 
the  title  of  "Jean  Bete  h  la  Foire"  (Tom  Fool  at  the  Fair).* 

*  This  unpublished  parade  by  Beaumarchais  has  little  to  fear  from 
rivalry  with  the  best  parades  by  Colle ;  it  has  all  the  grotesque  \-ivacity 


38  ceaumIarchais  and  his  times. 

These  ^'■paradei''  were  performed  at  the  Chateau  d'Etioles,  the 
residence  of  M.  Lenormand  d'Etioles,  the  husband  of  Madame 
de  Pompadour.  At  the  chateau  there  might  be  seen  at  the 
same  time,  as  well  as  Beaumarchais'  sister,  the  Comtesse  de 
Turpin,  Reville,  Dugazon  and  Feuilly  of  the  Come'die  Fran- 
9aise.  Mademoiselle  de  Miron  was  snatched  from  her  family 
while  yet  in  the  possession  of  youth.     She  died  in  1773.* 


CHAPTER  n. 

Beaumarchais'  Childhood. — His  Education. — Beaumarchais  as  "  Che- 
rubino." — Beaumarchais  turned  out  of  doors. — Beaumarchais  as  a 
Watchmaker. — His  first  Lawsuit. 

We  have  now  been  enabled  to  form  an  acquaintance  with 
the  perhaps  obscure,  but  certainly  interesting  family  from 
which  sprang  the  author  of  the  "  Marriage  of  Figaro."  Our 
readers,  we  hope,  have  been  led  to  appreciate  the  distinctive 
characteristics  of  this  purely  middle-class  community — of  this 
tribe  of  the  '■^petite  bourgeoisie"  refined,  cultivated,  loving  art, 
literature,  courtly  manners,  courtly  wit,  seeking  the  aristoc- 
racy, intriguing  to  come  in  contact  with  it,  with  never-failing 
upward  tendencies,  and  already  prepared,  nay,  seasoned,  for  a 
system  of  social  equality.  This  system,  it  must  be  avowed, 
notwithstanding  the  advantages  which  undoubtedly  accrue 
from  it,  seems,  as  far  as  we  have  been  enabled  to  judge  of  it 

of  this  class  of  entertainments,  all  the  wit  and  effrontery  of  equivoque 
and  allusion  which  characterize  them.  The  prevalent  taste  existing  in 
the  eighteenth  century  for  these  parades  is  but  a  sign  of  the  time.  We 
can  scarcely  realize  to  ourselves  now  the  fact  of  ladies  of  standing  in 
society,  and  often  of  rank  and  fashion,  condescending,  in  these  private 
theatricals,  to  utter  sentiments  couched  in  the  language  of  the  fish-mar- 
kets. We  are  more  reserved,  more  decorous  in  these  days ;  but,  unfor- 
tunately, it  is  only  in  words. 

*  Mademoiselle  de  Miron  left  one  only  daughter,  who  much  resem- 
bled her  mother,  and  who  aftenvard  distinguished  herself  by  a  passion- 
ate love  for  the  arts,  for  poetry,  and,  above  all,  for  songs.  In  the  do- 
mestic circle  she  was  sportively  called  the  "Muse  of  Orleans,"  from 
her  residing  at  Orleans,  where  she  was  married,  and  endowed  with  a 
handsome  portion  by  her  uncle  Beaumarchais. 


SADKESS    OF   COMIC    WRITERS.  39 

from  its  results,  and  looking  at  it  from  another  point  of  view, 
to  have  only  produced  abasement  in  the  higher  classes  of  soci- 
ety, without  elevating  in  a  corresponding  degree,  as  far  as  re- 
gards refinement  and  intelligence,  the  class  to  which  the  watch- 
maker Caron  belonged.  Accordingly,  I  think  I  was  right  in 
saying  that  it  would  be  very  difficult  in  our  days  to  find  the 
same  social  elevation  in  an  equally  humble  sphere. 

The  only  boy  in  a  family  in  which  there  were  five  girls,  the 
yoiuig  Caron  naturally  became  the  spoiled  child  of  the  house ; 
his  childhood  was  not  clouded  by  any  of  that  brooding  melan- 
choly which  we  often  find  to  have  characterized  the  youth  of 
men  gifted  with  comic  genius.  On  the  contrary,  Beaumar- 
chais'  childhood  was  gay,  sportive,  roguish,  the  perfect  reflex, 
in  fact,  of  that  wit  and  talent  which  were  afterward  to  burst 
forth  with  so  much  lustre.  In  the  preface  to  the  drama  of 
"  CromwcU,"  and  by  way  of  proving  the  necessity  of  an  alli- 
ance between  tragedy  and  comedy,  M.  Victor  Hugo  insists  upon 
the  fact  that  this  contrast  is  found  in  the  authors  themselves. 
"  Democritus,"  he  says,  "  often  appears  in  the  guise  of  Herac- 
litus.  Beaumarchais  icas  morose,  Moliere  was  sombre,  Shaks- 
peare  was  melancholy."*  I  am  sorry  to  combat  the  axiom  of 
the  illustrious  poet :  if  it  be  applicable  to  Moliere,  and  per- 
haps also  to  Shakspeare,  I  deny  that  it  can  be  in  any  way  ap- 
plied to  Beaumarchais.  It  is  incontestable  that  occasionally, 
during  his  stormy  career,  in  disgrace  and  in  distress,  and  more 
especially  at  an  advanced  age,  there  may  have  been  moments 
in  which  Beaumarchais'  mind  was  overshadowed  with  melan- 
choly ;  but  it  is  equally  certain  that,  of  all  men  who  ever  held 
a  pen,  this  man  was,  it  may  be  said,  the  last  whom  the  epithet 
of  morose  would  fit ;  nay,  he  is  essentially  undeserving  of  it, 
for  he  possessed,  to  a  surpassing  degree,  the  art  of  preserving, 
under  circumstances  the  most  unfortimate  and  the  most  dis- 
couraging, an  extraordinary  serenity,  and  an  inexhaustible 
fund  of  imperturbable  gayety.  Every  one  knows  Voltaire's  re- 
mark on  Beaumarchais  being  obliged  to  defend  himself  against 
the  accusation  of  having  poisoned  his  three  wives,  when,  in 
fact,  he  had  been  but  twice  married :  "  This  Beaumarchais 

*  Whence  did  M.  Victor  Hugo  derive  his  information  as  to  the  "mel- 
ancholy" disposition  of  our  Shakspeare? — Translator. 


40  BEAUMARCHAIS   AND   HIS   TIMES. 

can  not  be  a  poisoner.  He  is  too  drole  for  that."  But  the  re- 
mark would  have  beeil  more  strictly  true  if  Voltaire  had  sub- 
stituted "  gay,"  "  cheerful,"  for  drole.  He  spoke  with  more  ex- 
actness when  he  said  elsewhere,  "  I  persist  in  thinking  that  a 
man  so  gay  can  not  belong  to  the  family  of  the  Locustes."  That 
which  characterizes  the  author  of  the  "  Marriage  of  Figaro," 
and  which  bars  forever  his  being  enrolled  either  in  the  family 
of  the  Locustes  or  with  the  comic  writers  who  were  "  morose," 
consists  not  in  his  "  drollery" — that  quality  can  be  artificial, 
and  is  always  more  or  less  forced — but  in  his  frank  and  natu- 
ral gayety,  which  is  not  always  irreproachable,  it  must  be  ad- 
mitted, as  regards  good  taste,  but  always  bears  the  impress  of 
that  thorough  raciness  which  belongs  much  more  to  the  tem- 
perament than  to  wit.  "With  all  due  respect  to  M.  Victor 
Hugo,  then,  we  must  maintain  that  Beaumarchais  was  bom 
and  lived  fundamentally  gay. 

This  thorough  gayety  is  fully  shown  in  his  correspondence 
with  his  most  intimate  friends,  embracing  a  period  of  more 
than  fifty  years.  We  shall  learn  presently,  however,  that  at 
thirteen  years  of  age  he  meditated  suicide  through  a  disap- 
pointment in  love ;  but  it  is  very  easy  to  discover,  even  from 
the  terms  in  which  his  expressions  of  despair  are  couched, 
that  his  project  of  suicide  at  the  age  of  thirteen  was  no  more 
seriously  entertained  than  the  suicide  by  which  it  has  been  pre- 
tended that  his  days  were  brought  to  a  close.  The  joyous  and 
sprightly  character  of  Beaumarchais  when  a  child  is  especially 
proved  by  the  letters  of  his  sister  Julie,  who  devotes  more  than 
one  page  both  in  prose  and  verse  to  the  narration  of  the  boy- 
ish frolics  of  her  youthful  brother.  I  can  only  find  space  for 
one  single  specimen  of  these  several  reminiscences,  written,  by 
the  way,  in  very  bad  verse,  but  which  appears  to  be  the  ear- 
liest composed  of  all  her  similar  effusions.  The  composition 
of  this  little  poem  is  dated  as  far  back  as  the  time  when  Beau- 
marchais was  stiU  a  watchmaker's  apprentice,  and  he  is  called 
in  it  by  his  early  name  of  Caron.  Julie  thus  commences — on 
the  somewhat  hackneyed  model  of  the  jEneid  and  Henriadc — 

"  I  sing  the  times  of  childish  innocence,* 
And  all  the  pleasures  of  our  happy  youth, 

♦  Je  chante  ces  temps  d'innocence, 

Et  ses  plaisirs  de  notre  enfance,  ' 


BEAUMAKCHAIS    AS    BEIDOISON.  41 

So  joyous,  and  so  well  divided  with 
Our  dearest  friends  the  Bellanges  .  .  ." 

It  is  evident  that  the  verse  is  not  very  rich  as  regards  rhyme, 
and  that  the  poetical  talent  of  Julie  leaves  considerable  room 
for  improvement ;  but  to  this  exordium  follows  a  vigorous  por- 
trayal of  the  escapades  of  young  Caron,  who  it  appears  "/a/i 
comme  iin  (liable" — plays  the  very  devil — commanding  a  band 
of  little  good-for-nothings,  always  roving  about  to  plunder  the 
larder,  notmthstanding  the  sturdy  resistance  of  Margot  the 
cook,  or  at  night,  on  returning  from  their  gambols  abroad,  to 
disturb  the  slumbers  of  the  peaceful  inhabitants  of  the  Rue  St. 
Denis.  This  poem,  puerile  in  itself,  merits,  however,  to  be  re- 
produced here,  as  it  is  full  of  details  which  show  us  how  truly 
the  child  was  father  to  the  man  in  Beaumarchais'  case ;  these 
details  demonstrate  how,  predestined,  as  it  were,  to  litigation, 
and  fated  at  last  to  glean  from  successive  lawsuits  both  his  for- 
tune and  his  fame,  the  young  Beaumarchais,  as  though  he  had 
a  presentiment  of  the  future,  had  a  remarkable  partiality,  even 
in  his  childish  games,  for  that  peculiar  species  of  occupation 
which  was  afterward  to  have  so  great  and  serious  an  influence 
over  his  mature  age.  The  fiiture  adversary  of  Goezman  ap- 
pears to  us  in  this  family  picture  by  his  sister,  not  as  plain- 
tiff or  defendant,  but  as  judge.  She  describes  him  sitting  on 
his  judgment  seat  duly  equipped  in  robe  and  wig,  but  his  frol- 
icsonje  humor  soon  gets  the  better  of  his  judicial  gra^-ity ;  he 
overwhelms  his  auditory  with  an  avalanche  of  fisticuffs  and 
blows  with  tongs  and  shovel,  and  the  tribunal  at  last  breaks 
up  in  confusion. 

We  see  from  this  description  that  the  child  Beaumarchais 
loved  to  enact  his  own  part  of  "  Bridoison ;"  only  it  was  a 
Bridoison  rather  more  addicted  to  practical  joking  than  the 
judge  in  the  "  Marriage  of  Figaro  ;"  his  '■'■  fa-a-con  de  parlrr'' 
is  much  more  strongly  accentuated.  It  must  not  be  imagined, 
however,  that  the  whole  of  our  hero's  youth  was  spent  in  lard- 
er-sacking and  romping.  The  paternal  Caron,  to  whose  re- 
ligious tendencies  we  have  already  adverted,  brought  up  his 
family  in  all  the  practices  of  religion,  and  endeavored  strong- 
Si  vifs,  et  toujours  partages, 
Avec  nos  amis  Bellange. 


42  BEAUMAECHAIS  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

ly,  though  without  success,  to  turn  the  mind  of  his  son  to- 
ward sentiments  of  piety. 

"  My  father,"  writes  Beaumarchais  in  a  hitherto  unpublished  mem- 
orandum, "  used  to  conduct  us  all  relentlessly  to  high  mass ;  and  when 
by  chance  I  happened  to  arrive  after  the  Epistle  was  over,  I  was 
mulcted  of  twelve  sous  out  of  my  four  francs,  which  made  up  my 
monthly  pocket-money.  If  my  arrival  was  delayed  as  late  as  the 
termination  of  the  Gospel,  twenty-four  sous  was  the  fine ;  and  ap- 
pearance after  the  Elevation  was  visited  with  the  forfeiture  of  the 
whole  four  livres ;  so  that  it  very  frequently  happened  that  at  the 
end  of  the  month  I  found  a  deficiency  of  from  six  to  eight  livres  in 
my  financial  budget." 

It  will  naturally  be  asked  what  kind  of  education  the  young 
Caron  received,  where  he  was  instructed,  what  sort  of  school- 
boy life  he  led. 

"  I  can  not  understand  the  reason,"  writes  Gudin, "  why  Beaumar- 
chais' father  did  not  send  him  to  the  university,  or  place  him  under 
the  care  of  the  Jesuits :  these  semi-monks,  excellent  instructors  of 
youth,  by  the  way,  who  would  soon  have  perceived  the  peculiar  bent 
of  Beaumarchais'  genius,  and  have  trained  the  youthful  branch  in  the 
right  direction ;  but  by  some  inexplicable  circumstance  he  was  sent 
to  the  school  of  Alfort.  Here  he  certainly  acquired  more  knowledge 
than  there  was  any  idea  of  imparting  to  him ;  but  his  tutors  never 
suspected  his  brilliant  though  latent  capacity ;  he  was  even  for  a 
long  period  unaware  of  it  himself,  and  had  almost  made  up  his  mind 
to  resign  himself  to  the  condition  of  a  person  having  the  capacity  of 
loving  and  appreciating  whatever  is  beautiful  either  in  nature  or  in 
art,  but  nothing  more.  His  father  soon  recalled  him  from  school ; 
the  old  man  was  determined  to  bring  him  up  to  his  own  calling,  and 
to  leave  him  an  establishment  ready  prepared  for  him." 

Gudin's  mention  of  the  Ecole  d' Alfort,  without  giving  it 
any  other  designation,  had  at  first  reminded  me  of  sundry 
passages  in  the  "Marriage  of  Figaro,"  in  which  allusion  is 
made  to  the  hero  having  been  in  old  times  a  veterinary  bur- 
geon, and  I  asked  myself  the  question  whether,  by  chance, 
the  young  Caron  could  have  been  destined  by  his  father  "  to 
make  sick  animals  more  wretched"  (as  Figaro  says)  before  en- 
tering on  a  difierent  career.  But,  on  examination,  I  find  that 
the  veterinary  school  of  Alfort  was  only  founded  in  1767,  in 
other  words,  at  an  epoch  when  Beaumarchais  was  thirty-five 
years  of  age ;  thus  the  supposition  of  his  ever  having  studied 


CHEEUBIXO.  43 

the  veterinary  art  falls  to  the  ground  of  itself.  We  must 
therefore  conclude,  from  the  information  given  by  Gudin,  that 
there  existed  circa  1742,  at  Alfort,  some  educational  establish- 
ment having  no  connection  either  with  the  university  or  with 
the  Society  of  Jesus,  and  where  Beaumarchais'  father  must 
have  placed  his  son.  However,  some  letters  of  the  latter  throw 
considerable  doubts  on  the  truth  of  this  hypothesis ;  in  one  he 
speaks  of  his  walks  about  Paris  on  the  outdoor  holidays,  which 
would  seem  to  indicate  that  he  was  in  some  college  in  the  cap- 
ital, unless,  indeed,  he  had  been  previously  recalled  from  Al- 
fort ;  in  another  letter  to  Mirabeau  in  1790,  and  which  we 
shall  quote  in  its  proper  place,  Beaumarchais  narrates  how,  at 
the  age  of  twelve,  when  about  to  receive  his  first  communion, 
he  was  taken  to  the  convent  of  the  Minim  es,  which  then  ex- 
isted in  the  wood  of  Vincennes,  where  he  took  a  violent  fancy 
to  an  old  monk,  who  lectured  him  at  great  length,  seasoning 
his  sermon,  however,  with  a  succulent  repast.  "  I  used  to 
hasten  there,"  adds  Beaumarchais,  "  every  holiday."  This  is 
somewhat  at  variance  with  the  assertion  of  Gudin.  Never- 
theless, it  might  stiU  be  argued  that  the  little  scholar  used  to 
come  from  Alfort  to  Paris  on  holidays,  and  that  he  passed 
through  the  wood  of  Vincennes  on  his  way  to  the  Rue  St. 
Denis.  This,  however,  seems  positive,  that  Beaumarchais* 
stay  at  school  or  college  was  of  very  short  duration — he  left 
at  thirteen  years  of  age.  I  have  found  among  his  papers  a 
curious  document,  which  confirms  this  fact,  and  which,  in  ad- 
dition, places  us  in  a  position  to  pronounce  upon  the  state  of 
intellectual  and  moral  culture  of  which,  at  the  age  of  thirteen, 
the  future  dramatist  was  possessed.  Thirteen  years  of  age! 
— exactly  the  age  of  "  Cherubino!" 

An  ingenious,  but  sometimes  adventurous  philologist,  M. 
Genin,  affirms  that  the  character  of  "  Cherubino"  is  not  an 
original  creation,  but  is  borrowed  from  one  of  the  prettiest 
romances  of  the  Middle  Ages,  "  Le  Petit  Jehan  de  Saintre" — 
"  Little  John  of  Saintre."*  He  even  goes  the  length  of  say- 
ing that  Count  Almaviva's  page  is  but  a  copy  of  Le  Petit  Jehan. 
I  am  not  of  opinion  that  Beaumarchais  had  ever  read  the 

*  Des  variations  da  langage  Fran9ais  depois  le  Xllme  si^cle,  par  F. 
Genin,  p.  369. 


44  BEAUMAECHAIS  AND  HIS   TIMES. 

"  Petit  Jehan,"  at  least  in  the  crabbed  text  of  Antonio  de  la 
Sale,  who  was  very  little  known  in  the  eighteenth  century.  If 
he  was  acquainted  with  this  novel,  he  could  only  have  known 
it  through  the  extract  made  from  it  by  Tressan,  and  which 
was  published  for  the  first  time  in  1780,  in  the  "  library  of 
Romances."  It  is  indeed  possible  that  Tressan's  book  may 
have  given  the  author  of  the  "  Marriage  of  Figaro"  the  idea 
of  representing  a  page  in  love  -with  a  lady  of  quality ;  but,  in- 
dependently of  this  general  analogy,  I  can  see  no  resemblance 
between  the  timid  damoisel  of  the  fifteenth  century,  whose 
secret  the  Dames  des  belles  cousines  has  so  much  trouble  in  ex- 
tracting, who  has  so  much  need  of  encouragement  although 
he  Ls  "  already  sixteen  and  three  months,"  and  the  pert  scape- 
grace of  the  eighteenth  century,  who,  when  only  thirteen,  makes 
love  to  Susanna,  Fanchette,  and  even  to  old  Marcelline,  sim- 
ply, as  he  says,  "because  she  is  a  woman,"  and  who  would 
very  readily  make  love  to  his  godmother  herself  if  she  would 
only  throw  aside  a  little  of  her  dignity.*  Cherubino,  in  spite 
of  his  Middle- Age  costume,  is  essentially  modem,  and  has  un- 
mistakably the  stamp  of  the  period  in  which  the  character 
appeared.  In  order  to  create  this  character,  which  is  that  of 
a  precocious,  witty,  and  tolerably  impertinent  boy,  Beaumar- 
chais  had  no  need  to  go  back  to  the  fifteenth  century ;  it  was 
sufficient  for  him  to  consult  his  own  recollections,  and  to  rep- 
resent himself  at  the  age  of  thirteen,  for  he  was  quite  the 
original  of  the  page  in  the  "  Marriage  of  Figaro,"  at  least  as 
far  as  concerns  his  moral  nature. 

The  first  production  which  came  from  the  pen  of  the  real 
Cherubino  is  a  letter  in  a  mixture  of  prose  and  verse,  written 
by  Beaimiarchais  at  the  age  of  thirteen,  to  his  two  sisters  in 
Spain.  This  production  is  doubly  interesting,  from  the  fact 
of  its  bearing  the  comments  of  the  author  at  sixty-six  years 
of  age.   A  general  observation  by  Beaumarchais,  the  old  man, 

*  Although,  in  consequence  of  the  extreme  complaisance  of  the  Dame 
des  belles  cousines,  little  Jehan  becomes  more  guilty  than  Cherubino,  he 
begins  by  being  far  more  innocent.  I  look  in  vain  for  the  similarity 
which  Monsieur  Ge'nin  declares  to  exist  between  the  story  of  La  Sale 
and  the  "  Marriage  of  Figaro :"  there  is  no  resemblance  between  the 
scenes  any  more  than  between  the  characters. 


BEAUMAKCHAIS'  FIRST  VEBSES.  45 

explains  the  letter  of  Beaumarchais,  the  young  boy,  in  these 
words : 

"First  literary  and  absurd  production,  by  a  scamp  of  thirteen,  who 
was  just  leaving  school,  to  his  two  sisters  who  had  recently  gone  to 
Spain.  According  to  the  custom  at  public  schools,  I  had  been  more 
occupied  with  Latin  verses  than  with  the  rules  of  French  versifica- 
tion. A  man  has  always  to  recommence  his  education  on  getting 
free  firom  the  pedants.  This  was  copied  by  my  poor  sister  Julie,  who 
was  between  eleven  and  twelve  years  of  age,  and  in  whose  papers  I 
find  it  after  more  than  fifty  years. 

"  Prairial,  An.  VI.  (May,  1798)." 

This  remark  of  Beaumarchais  is  intended  as  an  excuse  for 
all  inaccuracies  which  occur  in  his  French  verses.  I  doubt 
whether  the  pupil  ever  made  much  progress  in  Latin  poetry, 
although  at  a  later  period  he  appears  rather  prodigal  of  Latin 
quotations  in  his  writings.  However,  to  appreciate  the  as- 
tonishing precocity  of  intellect  and  sentiment  which  is  shown 
in  this  letter,  the  reader  should  not  forget  that  it  comes  from 
a  child  of  thirteen,  and  from  a  child  whose  regular  education 
had  been  somewhat  neglected. 

"  Dame  Guilbert  et  compagnie,* 
J'ai  reQU  la  lettre  polie 
Qui  par  vous  me  fut  adressee 
Et  je  me  sens  I'^Lme  pressee 
D'une  telle  reconnaissance, 
Qu'en  Espagne  tout  comme  en  France 
Je  vous  aime  de  tout  mon  coeur 
Et  tiens  k  un  tres-grand  honneur 
D'etre  votre  ami,  votre  firere. 
Songez  k  moi  k  la  priere. 

*  Dame  Guilbert  and  friends, 

I  have  received  the  polite  letter 

Which  was  addressed  to  me  by  yon. 

And  I  feel  my  soul  moved 

By  so  much  gratitude 

That  in  Spain  as  in  France 

I  love  you  with  all  my  heart, 

And  hold  it  a  very  great  honor 

To  be  your  friend  and  brother. 

Think  of  me  at  your  prayers. 
(It  will  be  remembered  that  Madame  Guilbert  was  Beatmiarchais'  eld- 
est sister.) 


46  BEAUMAKCHAIS   AND   HIS   TIMES. 

"  Your  letter  has  given  me  the  greatest  pleasure,  and  has  rescued 
me  from  a  dull  feeling  of  melancholy  which  had  oppressed  me  for 
some  time,  and  which  was  rendering  my  life  a  burden.  I  can  say 
with  truth. 

Que  souvent  il  me  prend  envie 
D'aller  au  bout  de  I'univers, 
Eloigne  des  hommes  pervers 
Passer  le  reste  de  ma  vie  !* 
"  The  news  I  received  from  you  begins  to  shed  a  little  light  on 
my  misanthropic  condition  ;  while  diverting  my  mind,  the  easy  and 
amusing  style  of  Lisettef  changes  my  black  disposition  insensibly 
into  a  soft  languor,  so  that,  without  giving  up  my  notion  of  retire- 
ment, it  appears  to  me  that  a  companion  of  a  different  sex  could  not 
fail  to  throw  a  charm  over  my  existence. 

A  ce  projet  I'esprit  se  monte,J 
Le  coeur  s'y  trouve  aussi  son  compte, 
Et,  dans  les  chateaux  en  Espagne, 
Voudrait  avoir  gente  compagne 
Qui  joignit  k  mille  agrements 
De  I'esprit  et  des  traits  charmants ; 
Beau  corsage  k  couleur  d'ivoire, 
Des  ses  yeux  stirs  de  leur  victoire, 
Tels  qu'on  en  voit  en  toi  Guilbert. 
Je  lui  voudrais  cet  air  ouvert, 
Cette  taille  fine  et  bien  faite 
Qu'on  remarque  dans  la  Lisette ; 
Je  lui  voudrais  de  plus  la  fraicheur  de  Fanchon, 
Car,  comme  bien  savez,  quand  on  prend  du  galon.  .  . 

*  Often  I  am  seized  with  a  desire 

To  go  to  the  end  of  the  universe, 
Far  away  from  perverse  men, 
To  pass  the  rest  of  my  life, 
t  Beaumarchais'  second  sister,  Clavijo's  betrothed. 
X  At  this  project  my  imagination  takes  flight, 

My  heart  is  also  interested  in  it, 

And  in  its  castles  in  the  air 

Would  not  be  without  its  gentle  companion, 

Who  should  join  to  a  thousand  delights 

Wit  and  charming  features ; 

A  beautiful  bust,  the  color  of  ivory, 

Those  eyes  which  are  sure  of  their  victory, 

Such  as  you  possess,  my  Guilbert. 

I  should  wish  her  to  have  that  frank  expression, 

That  slender  and  well-made  figiure. 


BEAUMABCHAIS'  FIRST   VERSES.  47 

"  But  for  fear  you  should  reproach  me  with  looking  too  much  at 
the  physical  side,  and  neglecting  positive  advantages  for  passing 
charms,  I  will  add  that — 

Je  voudrais  qu'avec  tant  de  grclce* 
EUe  eut  I'esprit  de  la  Becassef 
Un  certain  golit  pour  la  paresse 

Qu'on  reproche  k  Tonton  sans  cesse 
A  men  Iris  sierait  assez, 
Dans  mon  reduit  ou,  jamais  occupes, 
Nous  passerions  le  jour  k  ne  rien  faire, 
La  nuit  a  nous  aimer,  voUk  notre  ordinaire. 
"  But  what  madness  on  my  part  to  talk  to  you  about  my  reveries. 
I  do  not  know  whether  it  is  on  account  of  their  success  with  you  that 
I  do  so ;  but  reveries  concerning  the  sex,  above  all  things !  I,  who 
ought  to  detest  every  thing  that  wears  a  petticoat,  for  the  evil  the 
race  has  done  me.  J    But,  patience,  I  am  now  out  of  their  power ;  the 
best  plan  is  never  to  get  into  it  again." 

The  rest  of  the  epistle  is  not  in  the  most  delicate  taste,  and 
it  even  contains  passages  which  it  would  be  difficult  to  quote, 
and  which  sufficiently  justify  the  epithet  of  scamp,  as  applied 
by  Beaumarchais  to  himself,  aq  epithet  which  he  also  applies 
to  Cherubino  in  the  preface  to  the  "Mafriage  of  Figaro." 

Which  we  remark  in  Lisette ; 

I  should  also  wish  her  to  have  the  freshness  of  Fanchon, 
For  as  you  know,  etc. 
(Fanchon  was  Beaumarchais'  third  sister.) 
*  I  should  wish  that  with  all  this  grace 

She  might  have  the  wit  of  la  Becasse. 
A  certain  taste  for  idleness 
With  which  Tonton  is  incessantly  reproached 
Would  be  sufficiently  becoming  to  my  Iris  ; 
In  my  retirement,  troubled  by  no  cares. 
We  should  pass  our  days  in  idleness  and  love, 
t  The  name  of  la  becasse,  in  the  second  line,  is  given  by  antiphrasis 
to  Julie,  the  fourth  and  wittiest  of  the  sisters ;  becasse — literally  wood- 
cock— being  here  used  as  a  synonym  of  goose.     Tonton,  in  the  fourth 
line,  is  the  fifth  sister,  who  was  afterward  Madame  de  Miron. 

{  On  the  subject  of  this  passage,  written  when  he  was  thirteen  years 
old,  Beaumarchais  adds  in  a  note  :  "  I  had  been  in  love  with  a  thought- 
less girl,  who  laughed  at  me  for  my  youth,  and  had  just  got  married.  I 
wanted  at  the  time  to  kill  myself"  The  tone  of  this  letter,  however,  in- 
dicates that  there  was  not  much  to  be  feared  from  his  attack  of  amor- 
ous despair. 


48  BEAUMAKCHAIS   AND   HIS  TIMES. 

What  I  have  said  is,  I  think,  sufficient  to  establish  relation- 
ship between  the  boys  of  Count  Almaviva  and  the  son  of  Car- 
on  the  watchmaker.  The  child  was  in  his  thirteenth  year 
when  his  father  interrupted  his  studies,  in  order  to  direct  his 
attention  altogether  to  watchmaking.  Under  his  tuition  he 
learned  to  make  watches,  to  measure  time,  as  he  said  in  after 
life.  We  shall,  indeed,  see  that  an  exact  calculation  of  time 
and  circumstances  was  always  one  of  the  principal  elements 
of  his  power  and  succass. 

In  the  mean  while  it  may  be  imagined  that  the  Cherubino 
of  the  Rue  St  Denis  had  rather  a  wild  time  of  it,  and  that  the 
watchmaker's  apprentice  became  the  model  of  all  others.  With 
a  violent  passion  for  music,  which  made  him  neglect  his  profes- 
sion, he  combined  other  less  innocent  tastes,  and  old  M.  Caron 
had  some  trouble  in  softening  down  his  impetuous  and  some- 
what dissolute  disposition.  In  one  of  the  numerous  pamphlets 
which,  during  the  period  of  his  opulence  and  celebrity,  were  fly- 
ing incessantly  about  him,  he  is  represented  at  the  age  of  eight- 
een as  driven  out  of  his  father's  house,  and  pursuing  the  pro- 
fession of  a  juggler.  That,  however,  was  simply  an  invention. 
The  only  true  part  of  the  story  is  his  expulsion  from  his  father's 
house,  although,  at  the  same  time,  this  expulsion  was  only  in- 
tended to  be  a  temporary  one.  Old  M.  Caron,  not  being  able 
to  do  any  thing  with  his  son,  decided  one  day  to  resort  to  strong 
measures ;  he  pretended  to  turn  him  out  of  the  house,  but  with- 
out throwing  him  on  his  own  resources  ;  for  young  Caron  was 
at  once  received  by  certain  relations  and  friends,  who  were  in 
the  secret  of  the  father's  plans.  He  wrote  letters  of  the  most 
supplicatory  kind  to  his  father,  who,  however,  resisted  for  some 
time.  At  last,  when  he  thought  the  lesson  had  been  sufficient- 
ly severe,  he  allowed  himself  to  be  overcome  by  his  wife's  en- 
treaties, and  those  of  the  sisters,  cousins,  and  friends  of  the 
exile.  A  treaty  of  peace  was  concluded  between  him  and  his 
son  on  the  subjoined  conditions,  which  will  give  some  idea  of 
the  influence  which  was  still  exercised  in  the  eigtheenth  cen- 
tury by  the  heads  of  families  and  professions,  while  they  will 
at  the  same  time  enable  the  reader  to  form  a  correct  idea  of 
the  faults  which  had  been  committed  by  the  young  apprentice. 
The  following  is  the  letter  in  which  the  &ther  informs  his  son 
that  he  may  return  to  the  house. 


EETUEN   OF   THK    PRODIGAL.  49 

"  I  have  read  and  re-read  your  last  letter.  M.  Cotton*  has  also 
shown  me  the  one  you  sent  to  him.  The  letters  appear  reasonable  ; 
the  sentiments  to  which  you  give  utterance  would  meet  with  my  un- 
limited admiration  if  I  could  only  look  upon  them  as  durable,  for  I 
take  it  for  granted  that  they  are  expressed  with  sincerity.  Your 
great  misfortune  consists  in  having  entirely  lost  my  confidence  ;  how- 
ever, the  friendship  and  regard  which  I  entertain  for  the  three  esti- 
mable friends  to  whose  intervention  you  have  had  recourse,  and  the 
gratitude  I  owe  them  for  the  kindness  they  have  shown  you,  induce 
me  to  give  my  consent  in  spite  of  myself,  although  I  am  convinced 
that  there  are  four  chances  to  one  against  your  fulfilling  your  prom- 
ises. Accordingly,  you  see  what  an  irremediable  evil  it  would  be 
for  your  reputation  if  I  had  to  send  you  away  again. 

"  Understand,  then,  on  what  conditions  you  are  to  return.  I  must 
liave  a  full  and  entire  submission  to  my  wishes,  and  marked  respect 
in  words,  actions,  and  behavior.  Remember,  that  if  you  do  not  exert 
yourself  as  much  to  please  me  as  you  have  done  to  gain  the  good  will 
of  my  friends,  you  will  have  proved  nothing,  absolutely  nothing,  and 
will  only  have  worked  against  yourselfl  I  wish  not  only  to  be  obeyed 
and  respected,  but  I  wish  you  to  think  beforehand  of  what  will  be 
likely  to  please  me. 

"  As  regards  your  mother,  who  has  urged  me  twenty  times  during 
the  last  fortnight  to  take  you  back,  I  shall  wait  for  a  private  conver- 
sation with  you  to  make  you  understand  how  much  affection  and 
solicitude  you  owe  to  her.  These,  then,  are  to  be  the  conditions  of 
ray  receiving  you : 

"  1.  You  shall  make  nothing,  sell  nothing,  cause  nothing  to  be 
made  or  sold,  directly  or  indirectly,  except  on  my  account ;  and  you 
must  no  longer  give  way  to  the  temptation  of  appropriating  to  your- 
self any  tiling  which  belongs  to  me ;  you  must  have  nothing,  abso- 
lutely nothing,  but  what  I  give  you ;  you  must  receive  neither  watches 
nor  any  thing  else  to  repair,  under  no  matter  what  pretext,  for  no 
matter  what  friend,  without  giving  me  notice  of  it ;  you  must  never 
undertake  any  thing  without  giving  me  due  notice ;  yoa  must  not 
even  sell  an  old  key  without  accounting  to  me  for  it. 

"  2.  You  must  get  up  in  the  summer  at  six  o'clock,  and  in  the 
winter  at  seven ;  you  must  work  until  supper-time  without  repug- 
nance ;  at  whatever  I  give  you  to  do  you  must  employ  the  talents 
which  Heaven  has  bestowed  upon  you,  entirely  with  a  view  to  be- 
coming celebrated  in  your  profession.  Remember,  that  it  will  be 
shameful  and  dishonorable  for  you  to  occupy  a  low  position  in  it,  and 
that  if  you  do  not  occupy  the  highest,  you  will  deserve  no  sort  of  re- 

*  A  banker,  who  was  a  friend  and  relative  of  the  Caron  family. 

c 


50  BEAUMAKCHAIS   AND    HIS   TIMES. 

spect ;  the  love  of  so  fine  a  profession  ought  alone  to  penetrate  yonr 
heart  and  occupy  your  mind. 

"  3.  You  must  go  to  no  more  supper-parties,  nor  go  out  at  all  in 
the  evening ;  such  amusements  are  dangerous  for  you ;  but  I  con- 
sent to  your  dining  with  your  friends  on  Sundays  and  holidays,  on 
condition  that  I  always  know  where  you  are  going,  and  that  you  are 
always  at  home  before  nine.  I  recommend  you  at  the  present  mo- 
ment never  to  ask  permission  to  break  through  this  article,  and  I 
should  advise  you  not  to  do  so  of  your  own  accord. 

"  4.  You  must  give  up  your  unhappy  music  altogether,  and,  above 
all,  must  forsake  the  company  of  young  men,  for  I  will  not  allow  you 
to  associate  with  one  of  them.  These  two  things  have  been  your 
ruin.  However,  in  consideration  of  your  weakness,  I  will  allow  you 
a  violin  and  a  flute,  but  on  the  express  condition  that  you  only  play 
them  on  working  days  after  supper,  and  never  in  the  daytime,  and 
that  you  do  so  without  disturbing  the  tranquillity  of  the  neighbors 
and  my  own.* 

"  5.  I  shall  avoid  sending  you  out  as  much  as  possible ;  but,  in  case 
I  should  be  obliged  to  do  so  by  my  business,  remember  that  I  shall 
never  accept  any  insufficient  excuse  for  your  delays ;  you  know  be- 
forehand how  much  they  would  annoy  me. 

"  6.  I  shall  allow  you  your  board  and  eighteen  francs  a  month, 
which  will  give  you  pocket-money,  and  enable  you,  by  degrees,  to  pay 
your  debts.  It  would  not  suit  your  disposition,  and  it  would  be  un- 
becoming on  my  part,  to  make  you  pay  for  your  board,  and  to  credit 
you  with  the  value  of  your  work.  If  you  devote  yourself,  as  you 
ought  to  do,  to  the  interests  of  my  business,  and  if  you  obtain  any  or- 
ders by  means  of  your  own  talents,  I  will  give  you  a  quarter  share 
in  the  profit  of  whatever  work  you  are  instrumental  in  bringing ;  you 
know  my  disposition,  and  you  must  be  aware  from  your  own  expe- 
rience that  I  do  not  like  to  yield  to  another  person  in  generosity ;  en- 
title yourself,  then,  to  receive  more  from  me  than  I  have  promised  ; 
but  remember  that  henceforth  I  set  no  value  on  words — I  reckon  ac- 
tions alone. 

"  If  my  conditions  suit  you,  if  yon  consider  yourself  capable  of  ex- 
ecuting them  in  good  faith,  accept  them,  and  sign  your  acceptance 
at  the  foot  of  this  letter,  which  you  are  to  send  back  to  me ;  and  in 

*  What  an  excellent  man  was  old  M.  Caron !  Is  there  an  individual 
in  Paris  sufficiently  unfortunate  to  be  under  the  same  roof  with  several 
pianos,  who  ever  met  witli  a  father  of  a  family  so  solicitous  above  every 
thing  for  the  tranquillity  of  the  neighbors  ?  Old  M.  Caron  little  thought, 
however,  that  his  son's  passion  for  music,  which  appeared  to  him  under 
so  fatal  an  aspect,  was  destined  to  be  far  more  profitable  to  him  than 
watchmaking. 


BEAUMAECHAIS*   ESCAPEMENT.  51 

this  case  assure  M.  Paignon  of  my  esteem  and  gratitude ;  tell  him 
that  I  will  do  myself  the  honor  to  take  dinner  with  him  to-morrow, 
and  prepare  to  return  with  me,  and  resume  a  place  which  I  thought 
you  could  not  have  occupied  so  soon,  if  you  ever  did  so  at  all." 

Conformably  to  the  paternal  commands,  young  Caron  writes 
on  the  same  piece  of  paper  the  following  declaration : 

"  Monsieur  and  honored  Father, — I  sign  all  your  conditions  in  the 
full  intention  of  executing  them,  with  the  assistance  of  the  Lord ;  but 
how  sadly  all  this  recalls  to  me  the  time  when  these  conditions  and 
laws  were  far  from  being  necessary  to  make  me  do  my  duty.*  It  is 
just  that  I  should  suffer  humiliation,  which  I  have  really  deserved  ; 
and  if  this  and  my  good  conduct  can  induce  you  to  give  me  back 
your  kindness  and  affection,  I  shall  be  only  too  happy.  In  faith  of 
which  I  sign  all  that  is  contained  in  the  above  letter. 

"A.  Caron,  fils." 

This  stroke  of  authority  produced  its  effect ;  young  Caron 
felt  his  honor  at  stake,  gave  himself  up  entirely  to  the  study 
of  watchmaking,  and  by  way  of  proving  to  his  father  that  he 
was  capable  of  attaining  the  highest  position  in  his  art,  at  the 
age  of  twenty  he  had  already  discovered  a  new  system  of  es- 
capementf  for  watches.  A  watchmaker,  then  celebrated,  named 
Lepaute,  to  whom  he  had  communicated  his  invention,  under- 
took to  appropriate  it,  and  announced  it  as  his  own  in  a  num- 
ber of  the  "Mercure,"  dated  September,  1753.  He  flattered 
himself  that  he  could  easily  deal  with  an  obscure  young  man  ; 
but  this  young  man  was  one  of  those  vigorous  and  tenacious 
dispositions  who  do  not  let  go  their  hold  very  easily.  "We 
have  beneath  our  eyes  the  principal  documents  relating  to  the 
lawsuit  to  which  this  dispute  gave  rise,  and  which  formed  the 
commencement  of  his  fortune  and  celebrity.  As  soon  as  Le- 
paute's  announcement  appeared,  young  Caron  wrote  the  follow- 
ing letter  to  the  "  Mercure,"  and  it  was  printed  in  the  number 

*  Chembino,  at  the  age  of  eighteen  imploring  the  assistance  of  the 
Lord,  in  order  to  soften  down  the  severity,  of  his  father,  is  in  itself  a 
good  piece  of  comedy,  particularly  as  the  young  scapegrace  lets  out  in 
the  next  sentence  his  annoyance  at  being  treated,  as  he  considers,  like 
a  child ;  but,  taking  it  all  and  all,  there  is  a  tone  of  sincere  respect  in 
this  letter  which  is  not  very  common  in  the  present  day. 

t  "The  'escapement'  is  that  part  of  a  watch  or  clock  by  which  the 
circulating  motions  of  the  wheels  is  converted  into  a  vibrating  one,  as 
that  of  the  pendulum  in  a  clock  or  the  balance  of  a  watch." — Websteb. 


52  BEAUMARCHAIS  AND    HIS   TIMES. 

for  December,  1753,  from  which  I  extract  it.  It  is  the  first 
communication  made  by  Beaumarchais  to  the  public,  and  has 
never  been  reproduced. 

"  I  read,  sir,  with  the  greatest  astonishment,  in  your  number  for 
September,  1753,  that  M.  Lepaute,  watchmaker  to  the  Luxembourg, 
announces  as  his  invention  a  new  escapement  for  watches  and  clocks, 
which  he  says  he  has  had  the  honor  of  presenting  to  the  king  and 
the  Academy. 

"  It  is  too  important,  for  the  sake  of  truth  and  my  own  reputation, 
that  I  should  claim  this  invention,  and  not  remain  silent  on  the  sub- 
ject of  a  breach  of  faith. 

"  It  is  true  that  on  the  23d  of  last  July,  in  the  joy  produoed  by  my 
discovery,  I  had  the  weakness  to  intrust  this  escapement  to  M.  Le- 
paute, that  he  might  make  use  of  it  in  a  clock  which  M.  de  Julienne 
had  ordered  from  him,  and  the  inside  of  which,  he  assured  me,  would 
be  seen  by  no  one,  as  he  was  fitting  it  up  with  his  pneumatic  wind- 
ing apparatus,  and  would  alone  have  the  key.  But  could  I  imagine 
that  M.  Lepaute  would  ever  think  fit  to  appropriate  this  escape- 
ment, which,  as  I  show,  had  been  confided  to  him  under  a  pledge  of 
secrecy  \ 

"  I  do  not  wish  to  take  the  public  by  surprise,  nor  to  induce  it  to 
take  my  side  on  the  strength  of  my  simple  statement,  but  I  earnest- 
ly beg  it  not  to  give  any  credit  to  M.  Lepaute's  assertions  until  the 
Academy  has  decided  between  us,  and  determined  which  of  us  is  the 
author  of  the  new  escapement.  M.  Lepaute  seems  to  wish  to  avoid 
discussion  ;  he  declares  that  his  escapement,  which  I  have  not  seen, 
bears  no  resemblance  to  mine  ;  but,  from  what  he  says  in  his  an- 
nouncement, I  imagine  that  it  is  exactly  like  it  in  principle  ;  and  that, 
if  the  commissioners  whom  the  Academy  may  appoint  to  hear  our 
contradictory  statements  find  any  difference  in  them,  it  will  be  found 
to  proceed  merely  from  some  faults  in  construction  in  his  machinery, 
which  will  help  to  expose  the  theft. 

"  I  do  not  publish  any  of  my  proofs ;  it  is  necessary  the  commis- 
sioners should  hear  them  for  the  first  time  in  all  their  force  ;  so  that, 
whatever  M.  Lepaute  may  say  or  write  against  me,  I  shall  maintain 
a  profound  silence  until  the  Academy  has  been  made  acquainted  with 
the  matter,  and  pronounceji  its  decision. 

"  The  judicious  public  will  be  kind  enough  to  wait  until  then.  I 
hope  for  this  favor  from  its  justness,  and  from  the  patronage  which 
it  accords  to  the  arts.  I  venture  to  flatter  myself,  sir,  that  you  will 
consent  to  insert  this  letter  in  your  next  paper. 

"  Caron  the  Younger,  Watchmaker,  Rue  St.  Denis, 
near  St.  Catharine's. 

"Paris,  Nov.  15;h,  1753." 


BEACMAKCHAIS'    ESCAPEMENT.  53 

Lepaute  replied  with  a  letter,  in  which,  after  calling  atten- 
tion very  complacently  to  his  various  talents,  his  high  con- 
nections, and  his  numerous  orders,  he  tried  to  crush  young 
Caron  in  his  obscurity  beneath  the  weight  of  a  certificate, 
signed  by  three  Jesuits  and  the  Chevalier  de  la  Morhere. 
Thereupon  came  a  fresh  letter  from  Beaumarchais  in  the 
month  of  January,  1754,  in  which  he  appeals  again  to  more 
competent  judges  and  to  the  Academy  of  Sciences.  The  dis- 
pute having  made  a  certain  noise,  the  Count  of  St.  Florentin, 
minister  of  the  king's  household,  did  in  fact  call  upon  the 
Academy  of  Sciences  to  decide  between  these  two  watchmak- 
ers. Beaumarchais'  address  to  the  Academy,  of  which  I  pos- 
sess the  minute,  contains  the  following  fragment,  which  is 
curious  from  the  solemn  and  respectful  tone  with  which  the 
young  watchmaker  speaks  of  his  profession,  like  a  worthy 
pupil  of  his  father. 

"  Instructed  I  have  been  by  my  father,  from  the  age  of  thirteen,  in 
the  art  of  watchmaking ;  and  animated  by  his  example  and  advice  to 
occupy  myself  seriously  in  endeavoring  to  perfect  the  art,  it  wiU  not 
appear  surprising  that,  when  only  nineteen,  I  tried  to  distinguish  my- 
self in  it,  and  to  entitle  myself  to  the  esteem  of  the  pubUc.  Escape- 
ments were  the  first  objects  of  my  attention.  To  do  away  with  their 
existing  defects,  simpUfy  them,  and  perfect  them — such  was  the  aim 
which  excited  my  ambition.  My  enterprise  was  doubtless  a  rash 
one  :  so  many  great  men,  whom  the  appUcation  of  an  entire  life  will 
probably  not  render  me  capable  of  equaUng,  had  worked  at  it  without 
ever  arriving  at  the  point  so  much  desired,  that  I  ought  not  to  have 
flattered  myself  I  should  ever  succeed.  But  youth  is  presumptuous ; 
and  shall  I  not  be  excusable,  gentlemen,  if  your  approbation  crowns 
my  work?  But  what  would  be  my  grief  if  M.  Lepaute  succeeded  in 
taking  from  me  the  glory  of  a  discovery  which  you  had  crowned? 
*  *  *  I  say  nothing  of  the  insults  which  M.  Lepaute  writes  and  cir- 
culates against  my  father  and  myself  Such  things  generally  indi- 
cate a  desperate  cause,  and  I  know  that  they  always  cover  their  orig- 
inator with  disgrace.  For  the  present,  gentlemen,  it  will  be  suffi- 
cient for  me  if  your  judgment  secures  to  me  the  glory  which  my  ad- 
versary wishes  to  deprive  me  of,  and  which  I  hope  to  receive  from 
your  justice  and  enlightenment.  Caron  the  Younger." 

The  Academy  of  Sciences  appointed  two  commissioners  to 
examine  into  the  question,  and  at  the  end  of  their  report, 
which  is  very  long,  and  which  I  wiU  not  inflict  on  the  reader, 


54  BEAUMARCHAIS   AND   HIS  TIMES. 

decided  the  matter  in  favor  of  young  Caron  in  the  following 
words: 

Extract  from  the  Registers  of  the  Royal  Academy  of  Sciences, 
February  23,  1754. 

"  MM.  Camus  and  Montigny,  who  were  appointed  commissioners 
for  examining  into  the  question  which  had  arisen  between  MM.  Ca- 
ron and  Lepaute  on  the  subject  of  an  escapement,  which  they  both 
claim  to  have  invented,  and  the  decision  of  which  had  been  referred 
by  the  Count  de  St.  Florentin  to  the  Academy  of  Sciences,  having 
made  their  report,  the  Academy  have  decided  that  M.  Caron  must 
be  looked  upon  as  the  real  author  of  the  new  watch  escapement,  and 
that  M.  Lepaute  only  imitated  this  invention  :  that  the  clock  escape- 
ment presented  to  the  Academy  on  the  4th  August  by  M.  Lepaute 
is  a  natural  consequence  of  the  watch  escapement  invented  by  M. 
Caron ;  that  in  its  application  to  clocks,  this  escapement  is  inferior 
to  that  of  Graham ;  but  that  for  watches  it  is  the  most  perfect  yet 
invented,  although  it  is,  at  the  same  time,  the  most  difficult  to  make. 

"  The  Academy  confirmed  this  decision  in  its  meetings  of  the  20th 
and  23d  of  February,  in  faith  of  which  I  have  delivered  the  present 
certificate  to  M.  Caron,  with  a  copy  of  the  report,  conformably  with 
the  result  of  the  decision  of  the  2d  of  March. 

"Paris,  March  4th,  1754. 

"  (Signed),  Grand- Jean  de  Fouchy, 

"  Perpetual  Secretary  of  the  Royal  Academy  of  Sciences." 

Thus  ended  Beaumarchais'  first  suit,  which  he  gained,  as 
he  was  destined  to  gain  so  many  others.  This  one  having 
given  the  young  artist  a  notoriety,  he  took  care  to  cultivate 
it;  and  a  year  afterward,  with  the  apparent  view  of  doing 
justice  to  another  watchmaker,  named  Romilly,  he  addressed 
to  the  "Mercure"  a  letter  containing  the  following  ingenious 
species  of  "puff"  for  himself: 

"  Paris,  June  16, 1755. 

"  Sir, — I  am  a  young  artist,  who  have  only  the  honor  of  being 
known  to  the  pubhc  by  the  invention  of  a  new  escapement  for 
watches,  which  the  Academy  has  honored  with  its  approbation,  and 
which  the  journals  spoke  of  last  year.  This  success  has  decided 
me  to  remain  a  watchmaker,  and  I  limit  all  ray  ambition  to  acquir- 
ing a  thorough  knowledge  of  my  art.  I  have  never  looked  with 
an  envious  eye  on  the  productions  of  my  fellow  watchmakers — this 
letter  proves  it ;  but,  unfortunately,  I  can  not,  without  impatience,  see 
myself  deprived  of  those  slight  advantages  which  study  and  perse- 
verance have  enabled  me  to  gain.  It  was  my  warmth  of  tempera- 
ment, of  which  I  am  afraid  age  does  not  cure  me,  that  made  me  de- 


BEAUMARCHAIS'    ESCAPEMENT.  55 

fend  with  so  much  ardor  the  legitimate  claim  which  I  had  to  my 
own  invention  of  the  escapement,  when  it  was  disputed  about  eight- 
een months  since  *  *  * 

"  I  take  advantage  of  this  opportunity  to  reply  to  some  objections 
which  have  been  made  to  my  escapement  in  various  publications. 
It  has  been  said  that  when  this  escapement  is  used,  the  watches  can 
not  be  made  either  flat  or  small,  wliich,  if  it  were  true,  would  render 
the  best  escapement  known  very  inconvenient." 

Some  technical  details  follow,  after  whicli  Beaumarchais 
concludes  in  these  words : 

"  By  this  means  I  make  watches  as  flat  as  can  be  desired — ^flatter 
than  they  have  ever  yet  been  made,  while  this  advantage  does  not 
in  any  way  diminish  their  goodness.  The  first  of  these  simplified 
watches  is  in  the  hands  of  the  king ;  his  majesty  has  worn  it  a  year, 
and  is  very  pleased  with  it.  If  the  first  objection  can  be  answered 
by  facts,  the  second  can  be  replied  to  in  the  same  manner.  I  had 
the  honor  to  present  Madame  de  Pompadour,  a  few  days  since,  with 
a  watch  in  a  ring  of  this  new  and  simplified  make — the  smallest 
which  has  ever  been  constructed ;  it  is  only  four  lines  and  a  half  in 
diameter,  and  two  thirds  of  a  line  in  height  between  the  plates.  To 
render  the  thing  more  convenient,  I  have  substituted  for  the  usual  key 
a  hoop  all  round  the  dial  plate,  from  which  a  little  hook  stands  out ; 
by  pulling  this  hook  with  the  nail  about  two  thirds  round  the  dial 
plate,  you  wind  up  the  watch,  and  it  goes  thirty  hours.  Before  tak- 
ing it  to  Madame  de  Pompadour,  I  saw  that  it  corresponded  exactly 
with  my  clock  which  marks  the  seconds  for  five  days.  Accordingly, 
with  my  escapement  and  my  mode  of  construction,  excellent  watches 
can  be  made  as  flat  and  as  small  as  may  be  thought  fit. 
"  I  have  the  honor,  &c., 
"  Caron  the  Younger,  Watchmaker  to  the  King." 

This  letter  and  signature  prove  that  young  Caron  has  al- 
ready made  a  certain  progi'ess :  instead  of  signing  himself 
*'  Watchmaker"  simply,  he  now  signs  "  Watchmaker  to  the 
King,"  He  has  his  entrees  to  the  chateau  of  Versailles,  not 
as  a  musician,  which  has  been  often  stated,  but,  in  the  first 
instance,  as  watchmaker  to  the  king,  princes,  and  princesses. 
In  order  to  show  thoroughly  what  his  position  was  at  the 
time,  we  will  quote  another  passage  from  a  letter  written  by 
him  to  one  of  his  cousins  who  was  a  watchmaker  in  London, 
dated  July  31,  1754 : 

**  I  have  at  last  deUvered  the  watch  to  the  king,  by  whom  I  was 


56  BEAU5IAECHAIS   AND   HIS   TIMES. 

fortunate  enough  to  be  recognized  at  once,*  and  who  remembered 
my  name.  His  majesty  commanded  me  to  wind  it  up,  and  explain 
it  to  all  the  courtiers  who  were  at  the  levee,  and  never  did  Ms  maj- 
esty receive  an  artist  with  so  much  kindness ;  he  wished  to  under- 
stand every  detail.  It  was  then  that  I  had  occasion  to  offer  you 
many  thanks  for  the  microscope,  which  every  one  considered  ad- 
mirable. The  king  made  use  of  it  to  examine  the  watch  in  Madame 
de  Pompadour's  ring,  which  is  only  four  lines  in  diameter,  and  which 
was  much  admired,  although  it  is  not  finished.  The  king  asked  me 
to  make  him  a  repeater,  in  the  same  style  on  which  I  am  at  present 
engaged.  All  the  courtiers  follow  the  example  of  the  king,  and-each 
one  wishes  to  be  attended  to  first.  I  have  also  made  Mademoiselle 
Victoire  a  curious  little  clock,  in  the  style  of  my  watches,  which  the 
king  wished  to  make  her  a  present  of:  it  has  two  dials,  and  shows 
the  time  whichever  way  you  look  at  it.  *  *  *  Remember,  my  dear 
cousin,  that  this  is  a  young  man  whom  you  have  taken  under  your 
patronage,  and  who,  through  your  kindness,  hopes  to  become  a  mem- 
ber of  the  Society  of  London.  What  obligations  I  should  be  under 
to  you  if  you  would  occupy  yourself  about  it  with  your  friends." 

Here  finishes  the  first  period  of  Beaumarchais'  life.  He  is 
as  yet  only  a  young  watchmaker ;  but  this  young  watchmaker 
can  at  the  same  time  distinguish  himself  in  his  art,  assert  his 
own  position,  and  defend  himself.  His  first  step  in  Lis  pro- 
fession is  a  discovery,  and  his  first  polemical  essay  is  a  triumph 
over  an  adversary  who  is  apparently  a  much  more  redoubtable 
person  than  himself.  The  position  of  Beaumarchais  is  about 
to  be  altered,  but  his  qualities  will  remain  the  came.  A  wom- 
an's love  is  about  to  open  suddenly  a  new  career  before  him, 
for  which  he  did  not  seem  to  have  been  made :  in  it  he  will 
exhibit  that  mixture  of  perspicacity,  energy,  elasticity,  and  ob- 
stinacy which  characterize  him,  and  in  a  more  vast  and  more 
elevated  sphere  we  shall  recognize  the  clever  combatant  whose 
first  struggle  and  first  triumph  we  have  just  narrated. 

*  This  passage  indicates  that  Beaumarchais  had  already  seen  Louis 
XV. ;  on  what  occasion  I  can  not  say,  but  doubtless  in  the  capacity 
of  watchmaker,  and  probably  after  his  victory  over  Lepaute  before  the 
Academy  of  Sciences. 


APPEARANCE  AT  COUKT.  57 


CHAPTER  in. 

Beaumarchais'  Appearance  at  Court. — Court  Titles. — The  Controller 
of  the  Pantry. — Beaumarchais'  first  Marriage. — His  Position  with 
"Mesdames  de  France." — The  inexpert  Watchmaker. — A  Duel  with- 
out Seconds. — A  Debt  of  Honor. — Beaumarchais'  Literary  Educa- 
tion. 

Until  the  age  of  twenty-four,  young  Caron's  ambition  was 
limited  to  selling  large  numbers  of  watches  to  the  king,  the 
princes,  and  the  courtiers.  How  did  he  obtain  the  idea  of  step- 
ping over  the  boundary  which  separated  him  from  the  aris- 
tocracy and  becoming  a  noble  ■?  This  is  the  proper  place  for 
introducing  an  unpublished  sketch  by  Gudin,  which  appears  to 
have  been  made  from  life.  "As  soon  as  Beaumarchais  ap- 
peared at  Versailles,  the  women  were  struck  with  his  lofty 
stature,  his  slender  and  elegant  figure,  the  regularity  of  his 
features,  his  bright,  animated  complexion,  his  confident  bear- 
ing, that  air  of  command  which  seemed  to  raise  him  above  all 
who  surrounded  him,  and,  finally,  with  that  involuntary  ardor 
which  he  exhibited  on  their  appearance." 

It  is  easy  to  see  from  this  portrait  that  modesty  was  never 
the  prevailing  characteristic  of  Beaumarchais'  physiognomy, 
and  that,  if  he  was  calculated  to  please  the  ladies  of  the  period, 
who  were  rather  fond  of  the  kind  of  beauty  depicted  to  us  by 
Gudin,  he  must,  on  the  other  hand,  have  had  less  success  with 
the  men,  and  have  obtained  at  an  early  period  that  reputation 
for  coxcombry  which  may  be  said  to  have  been  the  cause  of 
all  the  bad  feeling  exhibited  toward  him.  This  animosity  in- 
terfered with  his  own  tranquillity  and  with  his  reputation, 
and  made  him  exclaim,  in  one  of  his  old  Memorials  against 
Goezman,  "  But  if  I  was  a  coxcomb,  does  it  follow  that  I  was 
an  ogre  ?" 

However,  in  1755,  young  Caron,  being  nothing  but  a  watch- 
maker, was  not  in  a  position  to  make  the  courtiers  who  order- 
ed watches  from  him  take  umbrage.  He  began,  then,  by  reap- 
ing the  benefits  of  his  good  looks,  without  in  the  first  instance 

C2 


58  BEAUMARCHAIS   AND   HIS   TIIHES. 

experiencing  any  of  their  ill  effects.  A  lady  who  had  seen 
him  at  Versailles  called  upon  him  in  Paris,  at  his  shop,  in  the 
Eue  St.  Denis,  on  the  pretext  of  bringing  him  a  watch  to  re- 
pair. She  was  not  exactly  a  noble  lady — she  was  the  wife  of 
an  officer  of  the  king's  pantry,  cojitrokur  de  la  bouclie,  or,  to  be 
more  dignified  and  more  exact,  of  a  controleur  clerc  cT office  de  la 
maison  du  roi,  who,  by  the  way,  had  the  same  Christian  name 
as  Beaumarchais,  being  called  Pierre  Augustin  Franquet.  The 
office  held  by  the  husband  was  one  of  the  thousand  functions 
attached  to  the  court  which  our  kings  used  to  create  formerly 
when  they  were  in  want  of  money,  and  which,  when  they  had 
once  been  sold,  could  be  transmitted  by  the  holder  to  heirs  or 
to  other  purchasers,  if  the  prince  gave  his  consent.  It  is  with 
reference  to  this  that  Montesquieu  says,  in  his  "  Lettres  Per- 
sanes,"  "  The  King  of  France  has  no  gold  mines  like  the  King 
of  Spain,  his  neighbor,  but  he  has  far  greater  wealth  in  the 
vanity  of  his  subjects,  which  is  more  inexhaustible  than  any 
mine.  He  has  been  known  to  undertake  or  continue  a  war 
without  any  resources  but  the  titles  of  honor  which  he  had  to 
sell,  and,  owing  to  a  miracle  of  human  conceit,  his  troops  were 
paid,  his  towns  fortified,  and  his  fleet  equipped."  Those  who 
would  wish  to  form  an  idea  of  the  immense  variety  of  these 
court  places  have  only  to  consult  one  of  the  almanacs  which 
were  published  before  the  Revolution,  under  the  title  of  "  Al- 
manac de  Versailles :"  they  will  find  all  sorts  of  burlesque  of- 
fices, such  as  Cravat-tyer  in  Ordinary  to  live  King,  or  Captain  of 
the  Greyhounds  of  the  Chamber,  which  had  probably  cost  more 
money  than  they  gave  work  to  the  holders.* 

The  controller,  whose  wife  had  taken  notice  of  Beaumar- 
chais, was  very  old  and  infirm.  The  wife  herself  was  no  lon- 
ger in  the  bloom  of  youth.     It  appears  from  one  of  Beaumar- 

*  In  the  "  Etat  de  la  France"  for  1749  (vol.  i.,  p.  273)  there  is  a 
whole  chapter  entitled  "Greyhounds  of  the  Chamber."  The  captain  is 
M.  Zachaire  de  Vassan,  and  Michel  de  Vassan,  his  son,  is  his  appointed 
successor.  He  receives  2466  francs  for  his  wages.  There  are  also  three 
valets  and  guards  attached  to  the  Greyhounds  of  the  Chamber.  There 
are,  moreover,  the  little  dogs  of  the  King's  Chamber,  who  are  under  the 
care  of  M.  Antoine,  that  gentleman  receiving  1446  francs  as  wages,  be- 
sides 200  francs  for  his  livery.  The  pastry-cook  of  the  king  has  to  pro- 
vide seven  biscuits  a  day  for  his  majesty's  little  dogs. 


THE  CONTKOLLEK  OF  THE  PANTRY.  59 

chais'  notes  that  she  was  six  years  older  than  himself,  and,  con- 
sequently, in  1755,  she  was  thirty ;  but  she  Avas  still  very  beau- 
tiful, and  when  she  came  blushingly  with  her  watch  to  Beau- 
marchais,  there  was  no  need  to  tell  him  to  bring  it  back  him- 
self "  The  young  artist,"  says  Gudin,  "  politely  claimed  the 
honor  of  bringing  back  the  watch  as  soon  as  he  had  repaired 
it.  This  event,  which  appeared  an  ordinary  one,  had  an  ef- 
fect on  his  life,  and  gave  him  a  new  existence." 

At  the  end  of  some  months,  M.  Franquet  confessed  that  his 
old  age  and  infirmities  prevented  him  from  performing  his 
functions  as  controller  in  a  suitable  manner,  and  that  he  could 
not  do  better  than  give  up  the  place  to  young  Caron,  in  con- 
sideration of  an  annuity  which  was  guaranteed  by  the  father. 

With  this  new  career  open  to  him,  the  young  watchmaker 
gave  up  his  profession,  and  was  invested  with  the  functions  of 
controller  by  a  royal  patent,  dated  November  9,  1755.*  This, 
the  first  office  at  court  held  by  Beaumarchais,  differed  from 
the  others  so  far  that  it  was  not  absolutely  a  sinecure.  Un- 
der the  direction  of  the  controller  in  ordinaiy  of  the  royal 
mantle  were  sixteen  clerks,  controllers  of  the  pantry,  who 
were  employed  every  quarter,  four  at  a  time.  Their  functions 
are  described  as  follows  in  the  "  Etat  de  la  France"  for  1749 : 
*'  They  keep  the  ordinary  and  extraordinary  books  of  the  ex- 
penses of  the  king's  household,  and  have  a  voice  and  a  seat  in 
the  bureau.     They  have  six  hundred  francs  in  wages,  of  which 

*  The  follo\^^ng  is  an  extract  from  the  patent,  in  which  Beaumar- 
chais is  called  Caron  only :  "  On  the  part  of  the  king.  To  the  grand- 
master of  France,  first  master  and  ordinary  masters  of  our  hotel,  mas- 
ters and  controllers  of  our  pantry  and  account-room,  greeting :  On  the 
good  and  trustnorthy  report  which  has  been  made  to  us,  of  the  honor 
of  Pierre- Augustin  Caron,  and  of  his  zeal  and  affection  for  our  sen-ice; 
on  account  of  this  we  have  this  day  appointed  him,  and  by  these  pres- 
ents signed  with  our  hand  do  now  appoint  him,  to  the  office  of  one  of 
the  clerk-controllers  of  the  pantry  of  our  household,  left  vacant  by  the 
resignation  of  Pierre-Augustin  Franquet,  its  last  holder,  to  be  possess- 
ed and  exercised  by  him  ;  whereof  he  shall  enjoy  and  use  all  the  hon- 
ors, authority,  privileges,  freedom,  liberties,  wages,  rights,  &c. 

"  Given  at  Versmlles,  under  the  seal  of  our  trust,  November  9, 1755. 

"Louis." 

And,  lower  down,  "  By  the  king, 

(Signed),  "  Phelippeaux." 


60  DEAUMAKCHAIS   AXD    HIS   TIMES. 

they  only  receive  four  hundred  and  fifty,  and  liveries  in  kind, 
making  altogether  about  fifteen  hundred  fttincs.  The  control- 
lers are  attached  to  the  bureau  on  the  days  when  the  large 
staff  is  not  carried ;  they  serve  at  the  king's  table  with  their 
swords  by  their  sides,  and  place  the  dishes  on  the  table  with 
their  own  hands.  Subordinately  to  the  officers  of  the  hotel 
and  the  other  superior  officers,  they  direct  the  seven  pantries 
of  the  palace,  the  officers  of  which  owe  them  obedience  in  all 
matters  relating  to  their  functions.  They  take  their  meals  at 
the  table  of  the  masters  of  the  hotel,  or  at  that  of  the  former 
grand-master.  One  of  those  who  are  waiting  on  the  king  is 
also  entitled  to  eat  at  the  table  of  the  almonei-s."  In  the  rules 
drawn  up  for  his  household  in  1G81  by  Louis  XIV.,  and  kept 
by  his  successors,  we  find,  in  article  21,  these  directions:  "His 
majesty's  meat  shall  be  carried  in  the  following  order:  two 
of  the  guards  shall  march  first,  afterward  the  usher  of  the  hall, 
the  master  of  the  hotel  with  his  staff,  the  gentleman  {gentil- 
homme)  serving  as  bread-bearer,  the  controller-general,  the  clerk- 
controUer  of  the  pantiy  and  those  who  carry  the  meat,  the  groom 
of  the  kitchen,  the  keeper  of  the  plate,  &c."  Fancy  the  fu- 
ture author  of  the  "  Marriage  of  Figaro"  at  his  post,  and  in 
the  exercise  of  his  functions,  with  his  sword  at  his  side,  walk- 
ing before  his  majesty's  meat  previously  to  placing  it  himself 
on  the  table ! 

Two  months  after  Beaumarchais'  entrance  at  the  court,  on 
the  third  of  Januaiy,  1756,  the  old  man  who  had  sold  his 
place  died  of  apoplexy,  and  eleven  months  afterward,  on  the 
22d  November,  1756,  young  Caron  married  Franquet's  wid- 
ow, whose  maiden  name  was  Marie  Madeleine  Aubertin. 
Then  for  the  first  time,  in  the  beginning  of  1757,  he  added  to 
his  own  name  that  of  Beaumarchais,  which  he  was  destined  to 
render  so  celebrated.  The  manuscript  of  Gudin  tells  us  that 
this  pretty  name  was  borrowed  from  a  veri/  small  fief  belonging 
to  young  Caron's  wife.  I  do  not  know  exactly  where  this  very 
small  fief  "was  situate;  I  am  ignorant  whether  it  was  &  fief 
sen-ant,  or  afiefde  hauber-t,  or  simply  a  fief  o^  the  imagination : 
it  is,  however,  certain  that  this  event  supplied  the  judge  Goez- 
man  with  the  only  tolerable  piece  of  pleasantly  which  his  "Me- 
morials against  Beaumarchais"  contain,  where  he  says,  "M» 


BEArMARCHAIS'   TITLE    OF   NOBILITY.  61 

Caron  borrowed  the  name  of  Beaumarchais  from  one  of  his 
wives,  and  lent  it  to  one  of  his  sisters." 

Although  he  called  himself  Monsieur  de  Beaumarchais,  the 
young  controller  was  not  yet  a  noble :  his  little  ofl&ce  did  not 
cost  enough  to  confer  a  title  of  nobility  on  the  holder.  It  was 
not  until  five  years  afterward,  in  1761,  when  he  had  given 
85,000  francs  for  the  very  noble  and  very  useless  office  of 
secretary  to  the  king,  that  he  acquii*ed  the  right  to  bear  the 
name  of  hiajlef,  and  to  make,  in  1773,  the  following  remark- 
able reply  to  the  Councilor  Goczman,  who,  though  a  noble 
of  very  recent  origin,  was  taunting  him  with  being  a  ple- 
beian :  "  I  reserve  for  consultation  the  point  whether  I  have 
not  a  right  to  complain  of  your  searching  into  my  family  ai^ 
chives,  and  reminding  people  of  my  origin,  which  had  been  al- 
most forgotten.  Are  you  aware  that  I  can  already  prove 
twenty  years  of  nobility,  and  that  this  title  of  nobUity  is  real- 
ly my  own,  on  good  parchment,  sealed  with  the  grand  seal  of 
yellow  wax  ?  that  it  is  not,  like  that  of  a  great  many  persons, 
uncertain,  and  to  be  taken  on  trust,  and  that  no  one  would 
dare  to  deny  my  right  to  it — -for  I  have  the  receipt .'"  This  sar- 
casm, which  is  thoroughly  in  the  style  of  Beaumarchais,  tells 
us  more,  with  its  comic  insolence,  than  hosts  of  books  could 
do  of  the  degradation  of  the  aristocratic  principle  in  France  at 
the  approach  of  the  Revolution. 

The  comfortable  circumstances  for  which  Beaumarchais  was 
indebted  to  his  first  marriage  did  not  last  long :  in  less  than  a 
year  afterward  he  lost  liis  wife,  who  died  on  the  29th  Sep- 
tember, 1757,  having  been  carried  ofi"  very  rapidly  by  typhu* 
fever.  This  coincidence  of  the  death  of  an  infirm  old  man  be- 
ing followed  by  that  of  a  woman  of  thirty-one,  who  had  long 
been  suffering  from  a  disease  of  the  lungs,  and  who  was  mar- 
ried to  a  young  man  of  twenty-five,  for  whom  she  had  con- 
ceived a  violent  passion — this  coincidence  was  in  itself,  phys- 
iologically speaking,  by  no  means  an  extraordinary  one,  and, 
accordingly,  in  the  first  instance,  no  one  noticed  it.  It  was 
not  until  a  later  period,  when  the  position  of  Beaumarchais 
had  become  sufficiently  brilliant  to  excite  envy,  that  the  atro- 
cious rumors  of  poisoning,  so  common  in  the  eighteenth  cen- 
tury, were  circulated  against  him.     When,  by  a  deplorable  fa- 


62  BEAUMARCHAIS   AND   HIS   TIMES. 

tality,  after  also  losing  his  second  wife,  he  foiuid  himself  en- 
gaged in  a  contest  with  adversaries  who  had  no  respect  for  any 
thing,  these  abominable  calumnies  assumed  such  a  consistency 
that  he  had  to  undergo  the  pain  of  defending  himself  publicly 
from  them,  by  appealing  to  the  four  physicians  who  had  at- 
tended his  first  wife,  and  the  five  who  had  attended  his  sec- 
ond, and  to  prove  that  the  death  of  each  of  them,  so  far  from 
enriching  him,  had  left  him  without  a  farthing.  The  unpub- 
lished documents  which  I  have  before  me  fully  confinn  this  as- 
sertion. 

Thus,  to  speak  of  his  first  marriage  only,  the  author  of  the 
memorials  against  Goezman  expresses  himself  as  follows : 
"Owing  to  my  not  having  deposited  my  marriage  contract, 
the  death  of  my  first  wife  left  me  penniless  in  the  strict  sense 
of  the  word,  overwhelmed  with  debts,  with  certain  claims  none 
of  which  I  chose  to  follow  up,  in  order  to  avoid  having  to  go 
to  law  with  relatives,  of  whom  up  to  that  period  I  could  speak 
only  in  the  highest  terms."  This  delay  with  regard  to  the 
registration  of  the  contract  is  mentioned  at  the  end  of  the 
contract  itself;  and  the  fact  proves  that  young  Beaumarchais 
thought  so  little  of  the  probabilities  of  his  wife  dying,  that  he 
had  not  even  taken  the  trouble  to  insure  his  own  interests  in 
case  of  her  demise.  Other  documents  prove  that  he  gave  back 
his  wife's  property,  partly  to  the  relatives  of  her  first  husband, 
and  partly  to  her  own  brothers,  who,  for  sixteen  years  after 
her  death,  remained  on  very  good  terms  with  their  sister's 
husband. 

This  good  understanding  was  not  brought  to  an  end  until 
1773,  at  a  period  when  the  position  of  Beaumarchais,  who 
was  surrounded  by  enemies  and  engaged  in  ruinous  law  pro- 
ceedings, seemed  to  invite  all  evil-minded  persons  to  the  de- 
struction of  his  fortune :  it  was  then  that  one  of  the  relatives 
of  his  first  wife  urged  the  others  to  combine  against  him  and 
to  declare  themselves  his  creditors,  whereas  they  were  in  point 
of  fact  his  debtors,  he  having  paid  them  more  than  their  share 
when  liquidating  their  claims  upon  his  wife's  property.  After 
a  series  of  lawsuits,  which  lasted  several  years,  a  final  judg- 
ment declared  them  to  be  in  his  debt :  then  they  began  to 
write  letters  of  supplication  to  Beaumarchais,  and,  although 


IHESDAMES   DE   FRANCE.  63 

they  had  probably  helped  to  blacken  his  reputation,  faithful 
to  his  easy,  forgiving  nature,  he  made  them  a  present  of  the 
debt.  The  above  is  the  exact  truth  of  the  matter.  As  to  the 
other  points,  it  will  be  sufficient,  in  order  to  defend  the  author 
of  the  ''  Marriage  of  Figaro"  from  the  infamous  calumnies 
which  will  be  found,  in  the  course  of  this  narrative,  to  have 
been  directed  against  him,  to  show  how  he  lived  in  the  priva- 
cy of  his  family :  it  wiU  be  acknowledged  at  once  that  such  a 
man,  as  Voltaire  said,  could  not  be  a  poisoner,  and  the  only 
thing  left  for  our  astonishment  will  be  that  such  perfidious 
and  cruel  attacks  did  not  have  the  effect  of  altering  the  kind- 
ness and  gayety  of  his  natural  disposition. 

Thus,  in  beginning  the  world,  Beaumarchais  received  from 
fate  that  mixture  of  good  and  bad  fortune  which  was  to  char- 
acterize his  whole  career,  and  to  keep  his  temper  and  %\'it  con- 
tinually on  the  stretch.  The  death  of  his  first  wife  threw  him 
back  into  a  state  of  poverty,  but  he  had  kept  his  trifling  ap- 
pointment at  the  court ;  this  gave  him  a  footing  there,  and 
soon  presented  him  with  an  opportunity  of  gaining  all,  and 
even  more  than  he  had  lost. 

The  reader  has  not  forgotten  that,  from  his  youth,  he  had 
had  a  passion  for  music ;  he  sang  with  taste,  and  was  a  good 
performer  on  the  flute  and  harp.  This  latter  instrument, 
which  was  then  but  little  known  in  France,*  was  beginning  to 
be  much  in  vogue.  Beaumarchais  gave  himself  up  to  the 
study  of  the  harp  ;  he  even  introduced  an  improvement  in  the 
arrangement  of  the  pedals,  as  he  had  previously  improved  the 
mechanism  of  the  watch.  The  reputation  which  he  had  ob- 
tained as  a  harpist  in  several  drawing-rooms  at  the  court  and 
in  the  city  soon  reached  the  ears  of  "  Mesdames  de  France," 
the  daughters  of  Louis  XV.  These  four  sisters,  whose  re- 
tired mode  of  life  and  pious  habits  formed  a  happy  contrast 
with  the  latter  years  of  their  father's  reign,t  sought  to  relieve 

*  In  Diderot's  letters  to  Mademoiselle  Voland,  dated  17G0,  we  read 
the  following:  "I  had  been  invited  last  week,  by  Count  Oginski,  to 
hear  him  play  the  harp.  /  teas  not  acquainted  with  this  instrument ;  it 
must  be  one  of  the  first  invented  by  man.  I  like  the  harp,  but  still  it 
is  less  pathetic  than  the  mandore." 

t  It  is  well  known  by  what  vulgar  nicknames  Louis  XV.  ased  to  call 
his  daughters  in  private  life.    He  had  named  Madame  Yietoire  Coche^ 


64  BEACilAECUAIS   AND   HIS    TIMES. 

the  monotony  of  their  existence  by  devoting  themselves  to  a 
variety  of  studies.  We  read  in  the  Memoirs  of  Madame  Cam- 
pan  that  the  study  of  languages,  mathematics,  and  even  watch- 
making, occupied  their  leisure  hours  in  succession.  They 
were  especially  fond  of  music :  Madame  Adelaide,  for  instance, 
played  every  instrument,  from  the  horn  to  the  Jew's-harp. 
The  reader  will  remember  that  Beaumarchais  had  already Jiad 
occasion  to  make  a  clock  of  a  new  description  for  Madame 
Victoire.  When  the  princesses  heard  that  the  young  watch- 
maker, who  had  become  one  of  the  controllers  of  the  king's 
household,  was  remarkable  for  his  talent  on  the  harp,  they  de- 
sired to  hear  him.  He  continued  to  make  himself  both  agree- 
able and  useful :  they  expressed  a  wish  to  take  lessons  from 
him,  but  it  was  long  before  he  became  the  organizer  of,  and 
principal  performer  at,  a  family  concert  which  the  princesses 
gave  every  week,  and  which  was  generally  honored  with  the 
presence  of  the  king,  the  dauphin,  and  the  Queen  Maria  Lec- 
zinska,  and  to  which  only  a  very  few  persons  were  admitted. 
We  need  hardly  say  that  in  this  august  society,  where  not 
only  the  dignity  of  supreme  rank,  but  also  the  purest  virtue 
were  represented  by  the  queen  and  princesses,  the  young  artist 
threw  aside  the  vaporish  and  affected  airs  which,  judging  from 
Gudin's  sketch,  he  must  have  possessed  to  a  considerable  ex- 
tent. If  he  was  a  little  conceited,  he  was  intelligent  to  a 
much  greater  extent;  and  to  conform  to  circumstances,  to 
adapt  himself  to  the  dispositions  of  those  whom  he  wished  to 
please,  was  always  one  of  his  talents.  Having  left  a  shop  to 
enter  suddenly  upon  so  lofty  a  sphere,  he  was  obliged  to  be 
constantly  on  his  guard ;  for  his  position  was  delicate,  per- 
plexing, and  sufficiently  enviable  to  produce  those  bitter  jeal- 
ousies which  are  only  found  in  courts  and  behind  the  scenes — 
in  two  kinds  of  theatres,  each  of  which  has  the  effect  of  excit- 
ing the  bad  passions  of  the  human  heart  in  the  highest  degree. 
He  was  neither  a  music-master,  nor  a  servant,  nor  a  noble ; 
and  he  gave  lessons  to  the  princesses  without  receiving  any 
payment  in  return :  he  either  composed  or  purchased  all  the 
music  they  played :  he  was  allowed  to  give  evidence,  not  only 

Madame  Adelaide  Loque,  Madame  Sophie  Graille,  and  Madame  Louise 
Chiffe. 


LOmS    XV.    AKD   THE   HARPIST.  65 

of  his  talent,  but  also  of  his  wit,  in  the  private  parties  of  the 
royal  family,  in  which  the  principal  object  was  to  procure  re- 
lief from  the  wearisomeness  of  etiquette,  and  in  which  the 
young  and  agreeable  commoner  could  eclipse  nobles  of  the 
hio^hest  descent.  One  day  Louis  XV.,  being  anxious  to  hear 
him  play  the  harp,  offered  him  his  owa  arm-chair,  and  forced 
him  to  sit  down  in  it  in  spite  of  his  refusals.  On  another  oc- 
casion the  dauphin,  with  whose  austere  disposition  Beau- 
marchais  was  acquainted,  and  to  whom  he  accordingly  ad- 
dressed remarks  which  princes  of  that  period  were  not  accus- 
tomed to  hear,  said  of  him,  "  He  is  the  only  man  who  speaks 
the  truth  to  me."  This  was  quite  enough  to  set  all  the  men 
who  were  suffering  from  wounded  vanity  against  a  musician 
who  had  attained  so  high  a  position,  and  who  a  few  years  pre- 
viously had  been  seen  coming  to'  court  with  watches  to  sell. 
Let  us  add,  that  this  young  Beaumarchais,  who  was  respect- 
ful, yielding,  and  obliging  to  those  in  whose  good  intentions 
he  had  conjfidence,  was  never  silent  before  his  declared  ene- 
mies ;  that  he  replied  with  refined  satire  to  expressions  of  con- 
tempt which  were  not  always  free  from  coarseness ;  and  that, 
favored  by  all  the  attractions  of  youth,  good  looks,  intelligence, 
and  talent,  he  met  even  at  Versailles  with  ladies  who  were 
not  blinded  by  their  aristocratic  prejudices;  finally,  let  it  be 
remembered  that  modesty  was  not  his  forte,  and  it  will  be  un- 
derstood how,  at  a  very  early  period,  there  was  formed  against 
him  what  La  Harpe  calls  very  properly  a  sort  of  secret  and 
inveterate  hatred,  which  aimed  at  nothing  else  than  his  utter 
ruin.  First  of  all,  he  had  to  put  up  with  aU  sorts  of  annoy- 
ances; traps  were  laid  in  order  to  make  him  commit  himself; 
he  was  the  subject  of  impertinent  remarks,  to  meet  which  he 
had  need  of  all  his  energy  and  presence  of  mind.  The  storv 
of  the  watch  is  well  known.  A  courtier,  who  had  boast  -d 
that  he  would  disconcert  the  protege  of  "  Mesdames  de  France," 
met  him  in  the  midst  of  a  numerous  group,  just  as  he  was 
coming  out  of  the  princesses'  apartment,  arrayed  in  his  court 
suit,  and  said,  as  he  handed  him  a  very  fine  watch,  "  Sir,  as 
you  understand  watchmaking,  I  wish  you  would  have  the 
kindness  to  examine  my  watch  ;  it  is  out  of  order."  "  Sir," 
replied  Beaumarchais,  calmly,  "  since  I  have  ceased  to  practice 


66  BEAU5IARCIIAIS    AND    HIS   TIMES. 

the  art,  I  have  become  very  inexpert."  "  Oh,  sir,  do  not  re- 
fuse me  the  favor  I  ask."  "  Very  well ;  but  I  give  you  no- 
tice that  I  have  become  very  awkward."  Then,  taking  the 
watch,  he  opened  it,  raised  it  in  the  air,  and  pretending  to 
examine  it,  let  it  fall  to  the  ground.  Upon  which  he  made  a 
low  bow  to  the  proprietor  of  the  watch,  saying,  <'  I  had  warn- 
ed you,  sir,  of  my  extreme  awkwardness."  He  then  walked 
away,  leaving  the  nobleman  to  pick  up  the  remains  of  his 
watch. 

"  On  another  occasion,  some  one  told  Beaumarchais  that  the 
princesses  had  been  informed  that  he  lived  on  the  worst  terms 
with  his  father,  and  that  they  were  very  much  displeased  with 
him.  Instead  of  refuting  this  calumny  in  a  direct  manner,  he 
returned  to  Paris,  and,  under  the  pretext  of  showing  his  father 
the  chateau  of  Versailles,  brought  him  back  with  him,  took 
him  every  where,  and  made  a  point  of  meeting  the  princesses 
several  times  while  he  was  thus  occupied.  In  the  evening  he 
presented  himself  to  the  princesses,  leaving  his  father  in  the 
ante- chamber.  He  was  received  very  coolly ;  however,  one 
of  them  asked  him,  from  curiosity,  with  whom  he  had  been 
walking  about  all  day.  "With  my  father,"  replied  the  young 
man.  The  princesses  were  astonished.  An  explanation  nat- 
urally ensued.  Beaumarchais  solicited  for  his  father  the  hon- 
or of  being  admitted  to  their  presence,  and  the  old  watchmaker 
himself  undertook  to  sound  the  praises  of  his  son.  The  reader 
need  not  be  told  that  he  did  so  most  satisfactorily. 

It  is  said  that  Beaumarchais  also  fell  into  disgrace  with  the 
princesses  owing  to  an  observation  which  would  be  made,  not 
by  a  coxcomb,  but  by  a  fool.  It  is  asserted  that,  on  seeing  a 
full-length  portrait  of  IVIademoiselle  Adelaide  playing  the  harp, 
he  said  before  her,  "  There  is  only  one  essential  thing  absent 
from  this  picture,  namely,  the  portrait  of  the  master."  This 
absurd  tale  happens  to  have  its  origin  in  one  of  those  ill-na- 
tured actions  to  which  the  young  artist  was  constantly  ex- 
posed. A  fan  had  been  offered  to  the  princesses,  on  which 
they  were  represented  at  the  little  concert  they  were  in  the 
habit  of  giving  every  week,  with  all  the  persons  who  took  part 
in  it,  except  one ;  the  very  person  had  been  intentionally  omit- 
ted who,  in  a  musical  point  of  view,  occupied  the  first  place, 


A  DUEL  WITHOrT  SECONDS.  G7 

that  is  to  say,  Beaumarchais.  The  princesses,  when  they 
showed  him  the  fan,  which  he  looked  at  with  a  smile,  them- 
selves pointed  out  this  ill-natured  omission,  declaring  they  did 
not  want  a  picture  in  which  the  painter  had  disdained  to  rep- 
resent their  master.  The  jealousy  which  was  excited  by  the 
princesses'  protege  was  not  confined  to  small  calumnies,  it  ex- 
tended as  far  as  direct  insult.  Having  been  grossly  insulted 
by  a  courtier,  whom  the  manuscript  of  Gudin  and  the  unpub- 
lished correspondence  mention  only  as  the  Chevalier  de  C , 

Beaumarchais  was  obliged  to  look  upon  the  affront  as  a  chal- 
lenge. 

"  They  mounted  their  horses,"  says  Gudin,  "  and  repaired  to  the 
walls  of  Meudon,  beneath  which  they  fought.  Beaumarchais  had 
the  sad  good  fortune  to  plunge  his  sword  into  the  bosom  of  his  ad- 
versary ;  but  when,  on  drawing  it  out,  he  saw  the  blood  issue  in  a 
copious  stream,  and  his  enemy  fall  to  the  ground,  he  was  seized  with 
grief,  and  thought  only  of  the  best  means  of  assisting  him. 

"  He  took  his  own  handkerchief,  and  fastened  it  as  best  he  could 
over  the  wound,  so  as  to  stop  the  blood  and  prevent  his  former  ad- 
versary from  fainting.  '  Fly !'  said  the  latter,  '  fly,  M.  de  Beaumar- 
chais. You  are  lost  if  you  are  seen — if  it  becomes  known  that  you 
have  taken  my  life.'  '  You  roust  have  help,'  replied  Beaumarchais ; 
'  I  will  obtain  it  for  you.'  He  mounted  his  horse,  hurried  to  the  vil- 
lage of  Meudon,  asked  for  a  surgeon,  pointed  out  to  him  the  place 
where  the  wounded  man  was  lying,  showed  him  the  way  to  the  spot, 
went  off  at  fuU  gallop,  and  came  back  to  Paris  to  determine  what  he 
should  do. 

"  His  first  care  was  to  ascertain  whether  the  Chevalier  de  C 

was  still  alive.  He  had  been  removed  to  Paris,  but  his  Ufe  was  de- 
spaired of  He  heard  that  the  patient  refused  to  give  up  the  name 
of  the  man  who  had  wounded  him  so  severely.  'I  have  what  I  de- 
serve,' he  said.  '  To  please  persons  for  whom  I  had  no  esteem,  I  in- 
sulted an  honest  man  who  had  never  offended  me  in  any  way.' 

"  His  relatives  and  friends  could  get  no  answer  from  him  during 
the  eight  days  through  which  he  lingered.  He  carried  with  him  to 
the  tomb  the  name  of  the  person  who  had  deprived  him  of  life,  and 
left  him  with  the  eternal  regret  of  having  taken  away  the  life  of  a 
man  who  was  worthy  of  every  esteem,  who  had  been  sufficiently  gen- 
erous to  fear  to  compromise  him  by  the  slightest  indiscretion. 

" '  Ah,  my  young  friend,'  said  Beaumarchais  to  me  one  day,  when 
I  was  joking  about  some  duel  which  was  then  the  common  subject  of 
conversation, '  you  do  not  know  what  despair  a  man  feels  when  he 


68  BEAUMAKCHAIS  AKD   HIS  TIMES. 

finds  the  hilt  of  his  sword  on  his  enemy's  breast.'  He  then  related 
to  me  this  adventure,  which  was  still  afflicting  him,  although  many 
years  had  elapsed  since  it  had  taken  place.  He  never  mentioned  it 
without  grief,  and  I  should  probably  never  have  heard  of  it  if  he  had 
not  thought  it  right  to  make  me  feel  how  dangerous  it  might  be  to 
joke  about  such  fatal  affairs,  the  number  of  which  is  increased  by 
frivolity  much  more  than  by  bravery. 

"  Before  the  chevalier  died,  when  it  was  stiU  uncertain  whether  he 
might  not  let  the  secret  escape  him,  and  whether  the  family  would 
not  thereupon  demand  vengeance,  Beaumarchais  sought  the  interces- 
sion of  the  princesses,  to  whom  he  communicated  all  the  details  of 
the  unhappy  affair.  They  informed  the  king  of  it,  and  his  paternal 
goodness  made  him  reply, '  Arrange  it  in  such  a  way,  my  children, 
that  I  may  not  hear  of  it.' 

"  The  august  princesses  took  all  possible  precautions ;  but  the  gen- 
erosity of  the  dying  man  rendered  them  unnecessary."* 

After  the  somewhat  ornate  recital  of  Gudin,  I  felt  it  neces- 
sary to  verify  his  statement,  and  discovered  the  fact  and  date 
of  the  duel  noted  down  by  Beaumarchais  himself,  in  his  cor- 
respondence, with  reference  to  another  incident  which  occurred 
shortly  afterward,  and  which  will  give  a  better  idea  than  any 
writing  of  my  own  could  do  of  the  arrogance  of  certain  noble- 
men toward  this  commoner,  whom  they  looked  upon  as  an  in- 
truder. Beaumarchais,  in  the  year  1763,  happened  to  be  at  a 
ball  at  Versailles  where  the  company  were  playing  at  cards. 
A  man  of  rank,  named  M.  de  Sablieres,  with  whom  he  was  not 
acquainted,  borrowed  thirty-five  louis  from  him.  At  the  end 
of  three  weeks,  Beaumarchais,  hearing  nothing  of  these  thirty- 
five  louis,  wrote  to  the  nobleman  in  question,  who  replied  that 
he  would  send  the  thirty-five  louis  the  next  day  or  the  day 
after.  Three  weeks  more  elapsed ;  Beaumarchais  wrote  a  sec- 
ond time,  but  received  no  answer.  He  became  impatient,  and 
sent  M.  de  Sablieres  a  third  letter,  which  was  as  follows : 

"  After  you  have  broken  the  written  promise  which  I  received  from 
you,  sir,  I  should  be  wrong  to  feel  astonished  at  your  abstaining  from 
answering  my  last  letter  ;  one  is  a  natural  consequence  of  the  other. 
The  fact  of  your  forgetting  yourself  does  not,  of  course,  authorize  me 
to  address  reproaches  to  you.  You  owe  me  neither  politeness  nor 
attention  ;  not  having  the  honor  to  be  one  of  your  friends,  what  right 

*  It  would  appear,  from  Gudin's  statement,  that  the  adversaries  fought 
without  seconds.    I  reproduce  it  exactly  as  he  ^\Tote  it. 


A   DEBT   OF   HONOR.  69 

should  I  have  to  expect  them  from  one  who  fails  to  execute  duties 
of  a  more  essential  nature  1  This  letter,  then,  is  only  intended  to  re- 
mind you  once  more  of  a  debt  of  thirty-five  louis,  which  was  contract- 
ed at  the  house  of  a  mutual  friend,  with  no  other  security  than  that 
of  the  debtor's  honor  and  the  respect  which  was  due  by  both  of  us  to 
the  house  which  had  brought  us  together.  Another  consideration, 
which  is  not  of  less  weight,  is  that  the  money  you  owe  me  was  not 
won  from  me  on  the  chance  of  a  card,  but  that  I  lent  it  you  out  of  my 
own  pocket,  and  perhaps  deprived  myself  thereby  of  an  advantage 
which  I  might  have  been  allowed  to  hope  for  if  I  had  chosen  to  play 
rather  than  to  oblige  you. 

"  If,  unfortunately,  this  letter  does  not  produce  on  you  the  effect 
which  it  would  produce  on  me  in  your  place,  you  will  not  think  me 
wrong  if  I  place  between  us  a  respectable  third  person,  who  is  the 
natural  judge  in  matters  of  this  kind. 

"  I  shall  wait  for  your  answer  until  the  day  after  to-morrow.     I  am 
happy  to  have  been  able  to  show  you,  by  the  moderation  of  my  con- 
duct, the  perfect  consideration  with  which  I  have  the  honor  to  be, 
"  Sir,  yours,  &c.,  De  Beaumabchais. 

"March  29th,  1763." 

Now  comes  the  answer  of  M.  de  Sablieres,  the  man  of  rank, 
writing  to  the  son  of  the  watchmaker,  Caron.  I  reproduce 
his  letter,  word  for  word,  with  all  the  faults  of  orthography  and 
grammar  which  adorn  it. 

"  Je  scois  que  je  suis  asses  malheureux  que  de  vous  devoirs  trente- 
cinq  louis,  j'ignorc  que  cela  puisse  me  desonores  quand  on  a  la  bonne 
volontes  de  les  rendre,  ma  fasson  de  pensses.  Monsieur,  est  connu, 
et  lorsque  je  ne  seres  plus  votre  debiteur  je  me  faires  connoitre  a 
vous  par  des  terme  qui  seront  different  des  votre.  Samedy  matin,  je 
vous  demenderes  un  rendevous  pour  m'acquiter  des  trente-cinq  louis 
et  vous  remercier  des  choses  honnettes  que  vous  aves  la  bontes  de 
vous  scrvir  dans  votre  letre  ;  je  faires  en  sorte  dy  repondre  Ic  raieux 
qu'il  me  sera  possible,  et  je  me  flatte  que  dicy  k  ce  tems  vous  vou- 
dres  bien  avoir  une  idee  moins  desavantageuse.  Soyes  convincu  que 
cest  deux  fois  vints  quatre  heure  vont  me  paroitre  bien  longue ;  quand 
au  respectable  tiers  que  vous  me  menasses,  je  le  respecte,  mais  je 
fais  on  ne  pent  pas  moins  de  cas  des  menasse,  et  je  scois  encore 
moins  de  gre  de  la  moderation.  Samedy  vous  aures  vos  trente-cinq 
louis  je  vous  en  donne  ma  parolle,  j'ignore  si  k  mon  tours  je  seres 
assez  heureux  pour  repondre  de  ma  moderation.  En  attendans  do 
metre  aquittes  de  tout  ce  que  je  vous  dois,  je  suis.  Monsieur,  comme 
vous  les  desireres,  votre  tres  humble  et,  etc.  Sablieres." 

"I  know  that  I  am  unfortunate  enough  to  owe  you  thirty-five 


70  BEAUMAECHAIS   AND   HIS  TIMES. 

louis  ;*  I  am  ignorant  how  that  can  dishonor  me  when  I  have  the 
wish  to  return  them.  My  way  of  thinking,  sir,  is  known,  and  when 
I  am  no  longer  your  debtor  I  shall  make  you  acquainted  with  me  by 
means  very  different  from  those  which  you  employ.  I  will  request 
you  to  appoint  a  rendezvous  for  Saturday,  that  I  may  repay  you  the 
thirty-five  louis,  and  thank  you  for  the  polite  things  which  you  have 
been  kind  enough  to  introduce  into  your  letter.  I  shall  endeavor  to 
reply  to  them  in  the  best  way  I  can,  and  I  flatter  myself  that  between 
now  and  the  period  of  our  meeting  you  will  be  kind  enough  to  form 
a  less  unfavorable  opinion  of  me.  Rest  assured  that  those  twice 
twenty-four  hours  will  appear  very  long  to  me  ;  as  for  the  respectable 
third  person  with  whom  you  threaten  me,  I  respect  him,  but  I  pay 
the  least  possible  attention  to  menaces,  and  appreciate  moderation 
even  less.  On  Saturday  you  shall  have  your  thirty-five  louis  :  I  give 
you  my  word  for  it ;  I  can  not  say  in  my  turn  whether  I  shall  be 
sufiiciently  fortunate  to  be  sure  of  my  moderation.  Until  I  have 
paid  you  all  I  owe  you,  I  am,  sir,  as  you  may  wish  it,  your  very 
humble,  &c.,  Sablieres." 

This  missive  announces  no  very  pacific  intentions.  Beau- 
marchais,  who  had  just  killed  a  man  at  a  peiiod  when  the 
laws  against  dueling  were  still  very  severe,  replied  by  another 
letter,  in  which  he  commences  by  denying  all  intention  of 
wounding  the  honor  of  this  petulant  M.  de  Sablieres,  and 
which  he  terminates  as  follows : 

"  My  letter  being  now  explained,  I  have  the  honor  to  announce  to 
you  that  I  shall  wait  at  home  all  Saturday  morning  to  see  the  effect 
of  your  third  promise.  You  can  not  say,  you  tell  me,  whether  you 
will  be  sufficiently  fortunate  to  be  sure  of  your  moderation.  From 
the  warmth  of  your  style,  it  would  appear  that  you  have  no  great 
command  over  it  when  you  write  ;  but  you  may  depend  upon  my  not 
aggravating  an  evil,  of  which  I  am  not  the  author,  by  losing  my  own, 
if  I  can  avoid  doing  so.  After  this  assurance  on  my  part,  if  it  be 
your  intention  to  go  beyond  the  limits  of  a  civil  explanation,  and  to 
push  things  to  extremities,  which  I  will  not,  however,  assume  to  be 
the  case,  from  what  you  say  in  the  heat  of  the  moment,  you  will  find, 
sir,  that  I  am  as  firm  in  repelling  insult  as  I  endeavor  to  be  careful 
in  repressing  all  that  may  tend  to  produce  it.  I  do  not  fear,  then,  to 
assure  ^ou  again  that  I  have  the  honor  to  be,  with  all  possible  con- 
sideration, sir,  your  very  humble,  &c., 

"  Dk  Beaumarchais. 

*  We  have,  of  course,  made  no  attempt  to  reproduce  in  our  English 
version  the  faults  by  which  the  original  is  characterized. — Tkans. 


A   DEBT   OF   HONOR.  71 

"  P.S. — I  keep  a  copy  of  this  letter,  as  also  of  the  former  one,  in 
order  that  the  purity  of  my  intentions  may  help  to  justify  me  in  case 
of  misfortune  ;  but  I  hope  to  convince  you  on  Saturday  that,  far  from 
seeking  an  affair,  no  one  at  the  present  moment  ought  to  use  more 
efforts  than  myself  to  avoid  such  things. 

"  I  can  not  explain  myself  in  writing. 

"  March  81,  1763." 

On  the  copy  of  this  same  letter  are  written,  in  Beaumar- 
chais'  hand,  the  following  lines,  which  explain  the  postscript 

and  refer  to  the  duel  with  the  Chevalier  de  C ,  of  which 

we  have  before  spoken.  , 

"  This  took  place  eight  or  ten  days  after  my  unfortunate  affair  with 

the  Chevalier  de  C ,  whose  imprudence  cost  him  his  life  ;  which 

affair  would  have  ruined  me  but  for  the  kindness  of  the  princesses, 
who  spoke  to  the  king.  M.  de  Sabli^res  had  the  postscript  of  my 
letter  explained  to  him  by  Laumur,  at  whose  house  I  had  lent  him 
the  thirty-five  louis,  and  the  amusing  part  of  it  was,  that  this  de- 
prived him  of  all  desire  to  bring  me  the  money  himself." 

This  detail  will  be  sufficient  to  explain  what  a  difficult  sit- 
uation was  that  of  a  young  parvenu,  who  was  sufficiently  fa- 
vored by  nature  and  fortune  to  inspire  a  great  deal  of  jealousy, 
and  too  recently  emerged  from  the  shop  to  be  received  on  a 
footing  of  equality.  It  is  not  astonishing  that  Beaumarchais' 
character  was  formed  early  in  the  midst  of  so  many  obsta- 
cles. 

However,  the  favor  in  which  he  stood  with  the  princesses, 
and  which  dated  from  1759,  had  long  been  more  enviable  in 
appearance  than  useful  in  reality.  Although  he  had  no  re- 
sources beyond  the  income  attached  to  the  office  of  controller, 
he  was  not  only  obliged  to  place  his  time  gratuitously  at  the 
disposal  of  the  princesses,  to  say  nothing  of  expenses  connect- 
ed with  the  concerts,  which  were  often  a  great  burden  to  him, 
but  he  sometimes  even  found  himself  obliged  to  appear  in  the 
character  of  a  grand  seigneur,  and  to  advance  money  for  the 
purchase  of  expensive  instruments,  which  was  not  returned  to 
him  with  any  great  haste.  Although  very  desirous  to  become 
rich,  he  was  too  clever  to  compromise  his  credit  by  receiving 
pecuniary  payment  which  woyld  have  at  once  placed  him  in 
the  position  of  a  hired  servant.  While  he  was  waiting  for  a 
favorable  opportunity  to  profit  by  his  position,  he  at  the  same 


72  BEAUMARCHAIS   AND  HIS   TIMES. 

time  wished  to  retain  the  right  of  saying  what  he  did  say  at 
a  later  period :  "  I  have  passed  four  years  in  entitling  myself 
to  the  good  wishes  of  the  princesses,  by  the  most  assiduous  and 
disinterested  attention,  in  connection  with  their  different  kinds 
of  amusement." 

Now  "  Mesdames,"  like  all  other  women,  especially  prin- 
cesses, had  the  most  varied  fancies,  which  it  was  necessary  to 
gratify  at  once.  The  correspondence  of  Madame  du  Deffant 
contains  a  very  curious  story  of  a  box  of  preserved  Orleans 
quinces,  which  were  desired  so  impatiently  by  Madame  Vic- 
toire,  that  the  king,  her  father,  sent  a  messenger  flying  to  M. 
de  Choiseul,  the  prime  minister,  who  forwarded  a  dispatch 
with  equal  haste  to  the  Bishop  of  Orleans,  who  was  waked  at 
three  in  the  morning  to  receive,  to  his  great  alarm,  a  missive 
from  Louis  XV.,  couched  in  tlie  following  terms : 

"  Monsieur  I'Ev^que  d'Orleans,  my  daughters  wish  for  some  cotig- 
nac ;  they  want  very  small  boxes :  send  some.  If  you  have  none,  I 
beg  you  will " 

In  this  part  of  the  letter  there  was  a  drawing  of  a  sedan 
chair,  and  underneath  the  chair, 

"  send  immediately  into  your  episcopal  town  to  get  some  :  let  the 
boxes  be  very  small;  and, Monsieur  I'Eveque  d'Orleans, may  God 
have  you  in  his  holy  keeping.  Louis." 

Lower  down  was  this  postscript : 

"  The  sedan  chair  does  not  mean  any  thing  ;  it  was  drawn  by  my 
daughter  on  this  sheet  of  paper,  which  I  happened  to  find  near  me." 

A  courier  was  at  once  dispatched  to  Orleans.  The  cotignac, 
says  Madame  du  Deffant,  ari'ived  the  following  day ;  they  no 
longer  cared  for  it. 

It  often  happened  to  Beaumarchais  to  receive  commissions 
which  somewhat  recall  the  story  of  the  cotignac,  with  this  dif- 
ference, that  the  young  and  needy  music-master  had  not  al- 
ways— like  the  Bishop  of  Orleans — a  courier  at  his  disposi- 
tion. .Here,  for  example,  is  a  letter  which  was  addressed  to 
him  by  Madame  Victoire's  head  lady  in  waiting: 

"  Madame  Victoire  has  taken  a  fancy  to-day,  sir,  to  play  the  tam- 
bourine, and  desires  me  to  write  to  you  directly  that  you  may  get  her 
one  as  soon  as  you  possibl>  can.     I  hope,  sir,  your  cold  has  left  you, 


BEAUMARCHAIS'   LITER AEY   EDUCATION.  73 

and  that  you  will  be  able  to  execute  Madame's  commission  with 
promptitude. 

"  I  have  the  honor  to  be,  sir,  your  very  humble  servant, 

"  De  Boucheman-Coustillieb." 

It  was  necessary  to  purchase  immediately  a  tambourine  fit 
for  the  princess's  acceptance.  The  next  day  a  harp  was  want- 
ed, the  day  afterward  a  flute,  and  so  on.  AVTien  young  Beau- 
marchais  had  exhausted  his  purse,  which  was  at  that  time  veiy 
scanty,  in  paying  the  tradesmen,  and  had  become  rather  tired 
of  waiting,  he  sent  his  bill  with  much  humility  to  Madame 
d'Hoppen,  the  superintendent  of  the  princess's  household,  ac- 
companied by  the  following  observations : 

"  I  beg,  Madame,  that  you  will  have  the  kindness  to  observe  that 
I  am  responsible  for  the  payment  of  844  livres,  which  remain  due,  as 
I  was  unable  to  advance  them  myself,  having  paid  away  all  the  money 
I  had ;  and  I  beg  you  not  to  forget  that  I  am,  in  consequence,  entire- 
ly without  a  sou. 

Besides  the 1852  livres, 

Madame  Victoire  owes,  on  a  balance  of  account 15     " 

For  a  book  in  morocco,  gilt,  and  bearing  her  arms 36     " 

And  for  the  copying  of  the  music  in  the  said  book 36     " 

Total 1939/ii;.  10*. 

which  makes  80  louis  and  19  livres  \0s. 

"  I  do  not  reckon  all  the  coaches  I  have  had  to  take  in  going  to 
the  different  workmen,  nearly  all  of  whom  live  in  the  suburbs,  nor  the 
messages  which  I  have  had  to  send,  as  I  took  no  note  of  the  expenses, 
and  am  not  in  the  habit  of  doing  so  with  the  princesses.  Do  not  for- 
get, I  beg,  that  Madame  Sophie*  owes  me  five  louis.  In  hard  times 
one  is  obliged  to  collect  the  smallest  sums.  You  know  my  respect 
and  regard  for  you.     I  shall  say  no  more  on  the  subject." 

The  impatience  with  which  Beaumarchais  waited  for  the 
opportunity  of  profiting  by  his  position  with  the  princesses  is 
then  explicable  enough.  Literature  appearing  to  him  an  un- 
grateful profession,  he  did  not  wish  to  give  himself  to  it  until 
he  could  regard  it  only  as  an  amusement.  In  the  mean  while, 
however,  he  wrote  a  great  deal.  From  the  moment  of  his  ap- 
pearance at  court,  he  seems  to  have  felt  the  necessity  of  com- 
pleting his  unfinished  education.  His  papers  of  the  period  in 
question  contain  a  mass  of  sheets,  on  which  he  has  jotted  down 
*  Louis  XV. 's  third  daughter. 

D 


74  BEAUMAKCHAIS    AND   HIS   TDIES. 

his  own  ideas  mixed  up  with  quotations,  borrowed  from  a  num- 
ber of  authors,  on  all  sorts  of  subjects.  In  these  quotations  I 
observe  a  certain  predilection  for  the  writers  of  the  sixteenth 
century,  for  Montaigne,  and,  above  all,  for  Kabelais,  whose 
free,  copious,  bold  style,  so  prodigal  of  epithets,  comes  out 
sometimes  in  the  ''Barber  of  Seville"  and  "  Marriage  of  Fi- 
garo," appearing  occasionally  in  combination  with  the  some- 
what affected  manner  of  Marivaux. 

Although  he  never  had  any  very  remarkable  poetic  talents, 
and  often  mixed  with  his  happiest  lines  others  of  a  rather  com- 
monplace description,  Beaumarchais  had  at  that  time  a  pas- 
sion for  couplets,  and  even  attempted  verses  of  a  higher  flight ; 
he  wrote,  during  this  period  of  his  youth,  a  poem  of  about  three 
hundred  verses,  on  two  given  rhymes,  which,  without  rising 
above  the  mediocre,  appeal's  to  have  been  composed  with  much 
facility.  These  first  attempts  of  Beaumarchais  do  not  give 
evidence  of  much  original  talent.  His  vocation  for  poetry  and 
literature  does  not  appear  as  yet  to  have  been  very  marked. 
He  appears  to  have  been  more  struck  with  the  necessity  of 
making  his  way,  and  getting  an  income  and  a  carriage,  than 
with  that  of  cultivating  the  Muses.  On  this  subject  he  has 
the  same  opinions  as  his  patron  Voltaire,  who  says,  somewhere 
or  other,  "  I  had  seen  so  many  men  of  letters  who  were  needy 
and  despised,  that  I  had  long  determined  not  to  increase  their 
number ;  in  France,  you  must  either  be  the  anvil  or  the  ham- 
mer— I  was  born  an  anvil." Every  one  knows  how 

Voltaire  became  a  hammer :  a  rich  contractor,  Paris  du  Ver- 
ney,  gave  him  a  considerable  interest  in  the  supplies  to  be  fur- 
nished to  the  army  during  the  war  of  1741.  The  products  of 
this  first  operation,  judiciously  invested  in  commerce,  at  last 
brought  the  patriarch  of  Femey  an  income  of  130,000  livres 
(about  $25,000).  It  was  fated  that  the  very  man  who  had 
enriched  Voltaire  should  also  lay  the  foundation  of  Beamnar- 
chais'  fortune. 


BEAUMABCHAIS   AND    PARIS   DU    VERNEY.  75 


CHAPTER  IV. 

Beaumarchais  and  Paris  du  Vemey.  —  The  Grand  Rangership  of  Riv- 
ers and  Forests. — Beaumarchais  Lieutenant-general  of  Preserves. 

Paris  du  Verxey  was  the  third  of  the  four  brothers  Paris, 
the  celebrated  financiers  of  the  18th  century,  who  from  the 
most  humble  origin  (they  were  the  sons  of  an  innkeeper  at 
Moras,  in  Dauphine)  had  raised  themselves  to  the  most  brill- 
iant position.  Du  Vemey,  the  most  distinguished  of  the  four 
brothers,*  took  an  active  part  during  more  than  fifty  years  in 
all  the  great  affairs  of  administration  and  finance.  Voltaire, 
who  had  excellent  reasons  for  admiring  him,  sometimes  speaks 
of  him  in  his  works  as  a  man  of  high  genius.  He  was  a  man 
of  talent  and  influence,  who  contrived  to  maintain  his  position 
with  Madame  de  Prie  as  he  had  done  with  Madame  de  Pom- 
padour. 

"It  is  well  known,"  writes  Madame  de  Tencin  to  the  Duke  of 
Richelieu  in  1743,  "  that  the  Paris  family  are  no  unimportant  per- 
sonages. They  have  a  great  many  friends,  all  sorts  of  secret  influ- 
ences, and  plenty  of  money  to  work  them  with.  After  that,  only 
judge  to  what  extent  they  are  capable  of  benefiting  or  injuring  peo- 
ple." 

Madame  du  Hausset,  in  her  interesting  Memoirs  on  Madame 
de  Pompadour,  speaks  in  the  following  terms  of  the  influence 
of  Du  Vemey : 

"  M.  du  Vemey  was  Madame's  confidential  man  in  all  that  con- 
cerned the  war — a  subject  he  was  said  to  understand  thoroughly,  al- 
though he  was  not  a  military  man.  Old  Marshal  de  Noailles  used 
to  speak  of  him  contemptuously  as  the  General  of  the  Flour-bags ; 
but  Marshal  Saxe  informed  Madame,  one  day,  that  Dn  Vemey  knew 
more  about  war  than  this  old  general.  Du  Vemey  came  one  day  to 
Madame  de  Pompadour's,  where  he  met  the  king,  the  minister  of 
war,  and  two  marshals,  and  gave  the  plan  of  a  campaign,  which  was 

*  The  richest  was  the  fourth,  Paris  Montmartel,  the  court  banker, 
who  left  an  immense  fortune,  which  was  dissipated  by  his  son,  the  ex- 
travagant iLirquis  de  Brunoy. 


76  BEAXJMARCHAIS    AND    HIS   TIMES. 

generally  applauded.  It  was  he  who  procured  the  appointment  of 
the  Duke  de  Richelieu  to  the  array  in  the  place  of  Marshal  d'Es- 
trees." 

If  Du  Vemey  was  indeed  the  promoter  of  this  appoint- 
ment, there  is  no  need  to  compliment  him  upon  it,  for  Riche- 
lieu only  signalized  himself  by  his  pillage  in  Hanover,  and 
brought  to  a  disastrous  termination  the  campaign  which  had 
been  commenced  so  brilliantly  by  the  victory  of  Hastenbeck, 
due  to  ^Marshal  d'Estrces.  But  the  influence  of  Du  Vemey 
on  Madame  de  Pompadour  had  sometimes  more  fortunate  re- 
sults. Desirous  of  connecting  his  name  with  a  useful  institu- 
tion, he  induced  the  king's  mistress  to  give  her  support  to  the 
project  of  a  military  school  for  the  education  of  young  officers. 
Du  Vemey's  plan  raised  a  great  outcry.  Madame  de  Pom- 
padour was,  however,  decided,  and,  thanks  to  her,  the  mili- 
tary school  was  founded  by  an  edict  of  January,  1751 ;  so  that 
our  young  sub-lieutenants,  without  perhaps  being  aware  of  it, 
are  indebted  for  the  school  which  preceded  and  produced  the 
present  Ecole  INIilitaire  to  the  alliance  of  a  court  beauty  and 
an  old  financier. 

Appointed  director  of  the  school,  with  the  title  of  intendant, 
Du  Vemey  began  first  of  all  to  build  the  vast  edifice  which 
exists  at  present  in  the  Champ  de  Mars.  While  this  edifice 
was  being  constructed,  the  disasters  of  the  seven  years*  war 
had  diminished  in  a  notable  manner  the  influence  of  JVIadame 
de  Pompadour ;  and  the  Ecole  Militaire,  being  considered  as 
a  work  of  hers,  was  on  that  account  looked  upon  with  an  un- 
fiavorable  eye  by  the  royal  family  and  by  the  ministers  them- 
selves. In  1760,  at  the  end  of  nine  years,  the  building  was 
still  unfinished  ;  a  certain  number  of  young  men  had  been  col- 
lected there,  but  the  institution  was  failing  for  want  of  support. 
This  state  of  things  was  the  despair  of  old  Du  Vemey,  who 
had  centred  all  his  pride  in  this  establishment,  and  whose  ac- 
tive, restless,  imperious  disposition  is  sufficiently  represented 
in  this  quatrain,  which  was  published  after  his  death  : 

"  Here  lies  a  worthy  citizen,  whose  joy 
Lay  in  tormenting  all  in  his  employ. 
May  God  accord  him — now  he's  in  the  grave — 
That  rest  he  living  neither  took  nor  gave." 


PAKIS   DU   VERNET.  77 

Du  Verney  was  constantly  then  at  court,  laboring  without 
cessation  on  behalf  of  the  military  school,  and  soliciting  the 
king  in  vain  to  visit  it  in  state,  which  would  have  given  a  sort 
oi  prestige.  Coldly  received  by  the  dauphin,  the  queen,  and 
the  princesses,  he  could  not,  as  the  friend  of  Madame  de  Pom- 
padour, obtain  from  the  nonchalance  of  Louis  XV.  the  visit 
which  he  so  much  desired,  when  the  idea  struck  him,  in  his 
despair,  of  having  recourse  to  the  young  harpist,  who  appeared 
to  be  so  assiduous  in  his  attendance  on  the  princesses,  and  who 
directed  their  concert  every  week.  Beaumarchais  understood 
at  once  the  advantage  he  might  derive  from  rendering  an  im- 
portant service  to  a  clever,  rich  old  financier,  who  had  still  a 
number  of  affairs  in  hand,  and  who  was  capable  of  bringing 
him  both  wealth  and  advancement.  But  how  could  a  musi- 
cian without  importance  hope  to  obtain  from  the  king  what 
had  already  been  refused  to  solicitations  of  much  mofe  influ- 
ence than  his  owti  ?  Beaumarchais  went  to  work  like  a  man 
who  had  a  genius  for  dramatic  intrigue  and  a  knowledge  of 
the  human  heart. 

We  have  shown  that,  while  he  was  giving  his  time  and  at- 
tention to  the  princesses,  he  never  asked  for  any  thing  in  re- 
turn. He  thought  that  if  he  was  fortunate  enough  to  persuade 
them,  in  the  first  instance,  to  pay  a  visit  to  the  Ecole  MUitaire, 
the  curiosity  of  the  king  would  perhaps  be  excited  by  the  nar- 
rative of  what  they  had  seen,  and  would  lead  him  to  do  that 
which  he  would  never  have  been  prompted  to  do  by  justice. 
He  accordingly  represented  to  the  princesses  not  only  the  equi- 
table side  of  the  question,  but  also  the  immense  interest  which 
he  himself  had  in  obtaining  this  favor  for  a  man  who  might 
be  of  great  use  to  him.  The  princesses  consented  to  visit  the 
Ecole  Militaire,  and  Beaumarchais  was  granted  the  honor  of 
accompanying  them.  The  director  received  them  with  great 
splendor ;  they  did  not  conceal  from  him  the  great  interest  they 
took  in  their  youlig  protege,  and  some  days  afterward  Louis 
XV.,  lu'ged  by  his  daughters,  visited  it  himself,  and  thus  grat- 
ified the  wishes  of  old  Du  Verney.* 

*  La  Harpe  and  Gudin  represent  this  service  as  having  been  render- 
ed by  Beaumarchais  to  Du  Verney  in  consequence  of  a  previous  inti- 
macy.   This  is  an  error ;  the  intimacy  grew  out  of  the  service  itself. 


78  BEAUMARCHAIS   AND   HIS  TIMES. 

From  this  moment  the  financier — grateful  for  Beaumarchais' 
good  services,  and  delighted  to  find  a  person  who  could  assist 
him  as  an  intermediary  in  his  intercourse  with  the  court,  re- 
solved to  make  the  young  man's  fortune.  He  began  by  giving 
him  a  share  in  one  of  his  speculations  to  the  amount  of  60,000 
francs,  on  which  he  paid  him  interest  at  the  rate  of  ten  per 
cent. ;  after  this  he  gave  him  an  interest  in  various  other  af- 
fairs. "  He  initiated  me,"  says  Beaumarchais,  "  into  the  se- 
crets of  finance,  of  which,  as  every  one  knows,  he  was  a  con- 
summate master.  I  commenced  making  my  fortune  under  his 
direction ;  by  his  advice  I  undertook  several  speculations,  in 
some  of  which  he  assisted  me  with  his  money  or  his  name,  in 
all  with  his  advice."  It  was,  in  fact,  under  the  influence  of 
this  able  master  that  the  son  of  Caron,  the  watchmaker,  ac- 
quired that  taste  for  speculation  which  never  afterward  forsook 
him,  which  contributed  not  a  little  to  harass  his  existence,  and 
which,  joined  to  an  equally  ardent  taste  for  the  pleasures  of 
the  intellect  and  imagination,  formed  the  peculiar  features  of 
his  character. 

Soon  afterward,  in  order  to  get  on  more  rapidly,  he  consid- 
ered it  necessary  to  acquire  letters  of  nobility,  by  purchasing 
what  was  then  called  a  savonette  a  vilain  ;*  that  is  to  say,  the 
title  of  king's  secretary.  But  there  was  at  first  an  obstacle  in 
the  way  of  this :  old  M.  Caron  continued  his  trade  of  watch- 
making, which  was  enough  to  compromise  the  success  of  the 
candidate.  A  letter  from  Beaumarchais  to  his  father  proves 
that  even  at  that  time  he  did  not  deceive  himself  as  to  the 
moral  value  of  this  kind  of  ennoblement. 

"  If  I  were  at  liberty,"  he  writes  to  his  father,  "  to  say  what  new 
year's  gift  I  should  like  to  receive  from  you,  I  should  wish,  above  all, 
that  you  would  remember  your  promise  of  such  long  standing,  to 

This  is  proved  by  the  following  passage  from  one  of  Beaumarchais'  nn- 
published  letters:  "In  1760,  M.  du  Verney,  in  despair  at  having  for 
nine  years  tried  every  means  to  induce  the  royal  family  to  pay  a  visit  to 
the  Military  School,  which  was  looked  upon  as  the  work  of  Madame  de 
Pompadour,  wished  to  make  my  acquaintance  ;  he  offered  me  his  friend- 
ship, assistance,  and  influence,  if  I  had  enough  influence  myself  to  suc- 
ceed in  doing  that  which  every  one  else  had  been  attempting  in  vain 
for  nine  years." 

*  Literally,  soap  for  the  snob. — TsANS. 


THE   EX-WATCHMAKER.  79 

change  the  inscription  above  your  shop-front.  An  affair  which  I  am 
about  to  conclude  will  probably  be  met  by  this  difficulty  alone,  that 
you  are  in  trade — a  fact  of  which  you  inform  the  public  in  an  an- 
nouncement which  admits  of  no  reply.  I  can  not  think  that  you  will 
refuse  me  a  favor  which  can  make  no  difference  to  you,  and  which 
will  make  a  great  difference  in  my  prospects,  owing  to  the  foolish 
manner  in  which  matters  are  viewed  in  this  country.  Not  being  able 
to  alter  the  prejudice,  I  am  obliged  to  submit  to  it,  as  there  is  no  oth- 
er channel  open  to  the  advancement  which  I  desire  for  our  happiness, 
and  for  that  of  all  the  family.  I  have  the  honor  to  be,  with  the  most 
profound  respect.  Monsieur  and  honored  father, 

"  Your  very  humble,  &c^  De  Beaumarchais. 

"  Versailles,  January  2,  1761." 

Old  M.  Caron  decided  to  give  up  watcTimaking  altogether, 
so  as  not  to  interfere  with  the  career  of  his  son,  and  the  patent 
of  king's  secretary  was  obtained  by  Beaumarchais  on  the  8th 
of  December,  176L  This  new  position  contributed  not  a  little 
to  increase  the  number  of  his  enemies ;  and  the  jealous  feelings 
which  were  excited  by  his  rapid  fortune  soon  exhibited  itself, 
from  an  occurrence  which  was  the  great  misfortune  of  this  first 
period  of  his  life. 

One  of  the  grand-rangerships  of  the  rivers  and  forests  be- 
came vacant  by  the  death  of  the  holder.  The  grand-ranger- 
ships of  the  rivers  and  forests  were  divided  into  eighteen  de- 
partments for  the  whole  of  France.  The  place  was  important, 
lucrative,  and  cost  500,000  livres. 

Du  Verney,  who  was  becoming  more  and  more  attached  to 
his  young  friend,  lent  him  the  sum  necessary  to  buy  it,  prom- 
ising to  provide  him  with  the  means  of  repaying  the  money 
by  contracts  for  the  army,  the  bouteille  de  Vencre  of  the  ancient 
regime.  "  The  money  was  deposited  with  a  notary :  it  only  re- 
mained necessary  to  obtain  the  consent  of  the  king :  if  Beau- 
marchais had  obtained  it,  the  course  of  his  life  would  prob- 
ably have  been  changed,  and  already  the  princesses  had  the 
assurance  of  the  controller-general  that  the  desired  assent 
would  be  given.  Their  protege  thought  he  was  sure  of  success, 
but  he  had  reckoned  without  his  enemies. 

On  liearing  that  the  watchmaker  was  about  to  become  their 
colleague,  some  of  the  grand-masters  of  the  waters  and  forests 
became  indignant,  and  appealed  to  the  others ;  a  collective  pe- 


80  BEATJMARCHAIS   AND    HIS   TIMES. 

tition  -was  addressed  to  the  controller-general,  in  which  these 
gentlemen  threatened  to  resign.  I  will,  in  the  first  place, 
give  the  note  presented  by  the  princesses  in  Beaumarchais' 
name  to  the  king,  which  at  once  puts  us  in  possession  of  the 
facts  of  the  case : 

"to  the  king. 

"  Beanmarchais,  grandson  of  an  engineer,  nephew  on  the  father's 
side  of  a  captain  of  grenadiers,  who  died  a  chevalier  of  St.  Louis, 
for  the  last  seven  years  controller  of  the  king's  household,  re- 
quests his  majesty's  permission  to  hold  the  office  of  grand-master  of 
the  waters  and  forests,  which  he  has  purchased  for  500,000  francs 
on  the  promise  of  the  controller-general,  given  to  Mesdames  (the 
princesses)  that  he  should  have  this  place  when  he  or  his  father  had 
obtained  the  appointment  of  king's  secretary.  He  himself  obtained 
that  appointment :  he  is  ready  to  give  the  appointment  up  to  his  fa- 
ther, if  required.  There  is  no  personal  objection  to  be  made  to  him, 
but  exception  is  taken  to  his  father  as  carrying  on  the  trade  of  watch- 
maker, who  left  it  altogether  six  years  since  :*  it  is,  moreover,  said 
that  he  was  unable  to  get  accepted  as  his  majesty's  major-domo.  To 
that  Beaumarchais  replies  that  several  of  the  present  grand-masters, 
and  many  of  those  who  have  retired,  are  of  lower  origin  and  extrac- 
tion than  himself:  he  appears  as  king's  secretary,  and  consequently 
as  a  noble :  if  he  was  not  accepted  as  his  majesty's  major-domo,  it 
was  in  consequence  of  a  new  regulation  which  requires  the  applicant 
to  be  noble,  and  at  that  time  he  had  not  been  appointed  king's  sec- 
retary. 

"  The  opposition  of  some  of  the  grand-masters,  who  assume  to 
speak  in  the  name  of  the  corps  (and  whose  hatred  probably  arises 
from  envy)  ought  to  give  way  before  the  promise  of  the  controller- 
general,  the  intervention  of  Mesdames,  and  the  consideration  that  a 
refusal  brings  dishonor  and  ruin  to  an  honest  man." 

M.  de  la  Chataigneraie,  the  queen's  equeny,  also  wrote  to 
Paris  du  Vemey,  in  the  name  of  the  princesses,  to  urge  him 
to  use  his  influence  with  the  controller-general  in  favor  of 
Beaumarchais.  Du  Vemey's  answer,  which  was  addressed 
directly  to  the  princesses  in  the  form  of  a  memorandam,  will 
give  an  idea  of  the  activity  of  the  struggle  and  the  interest 
with  which  the  young  candidate  inspired  the  princesses : 

*  This  statement,  which  was  written  in  17G2,  is  contradicted  by  the 
preceding  letter  of  January,  1761.  It  was  only  a  year  since  old  M. 
Caron  had  quite  given  up  trade ;  but  a  petitioner  is  not  required  to  be 
minutely  accurate. 


INTERCESSION  OF  THE  PKINCESSES.  81 

"jIEMORANDUM   FOR  FRIDAY,  JANUARY   8,   1762,  FOR  MESDAMES   DE 
FRANCE. 

"  Du  Verney  has  been  unable  to  see  M.  Bertin,*  who  has  gone  to 
Versailles  to-day  without  giving  an  answer  to  the  request  which  had 
been  made  for  an  interview,  but  he  has  seen  M.  de  Beaumont,f  and. 
has  made  the  strongest  representations  to  him  on  the  subject  of  the 
injustice  which  it  is  contemplated  to  inflict  on  M.  de  Beaimiarchais. 
He  has  convinced  him  that  they  can  not  avoid  receiving  the  young 
man.  M.  de  Beaumont  told  him  that  M.  de  Bertin,  when  he  left  him, 
intended  speaking  to  the  king  about  the  matter,  but  that  he  had  not 
made  up  his  mind  either  against  or  in  favor  of  the  young  man.  Du 
Verney  thinks  that  if  M.  Bertin  predisposes  the  king  not  to  give  his 
consent,  it  will  be  difficult  to  avoid  the  consequences  :  he  thinks  that 
Mesdames  should  see  the  minister  before  the  conversation,  and  ask 
him  to  do  one  of  two  things  :  either  to  set  the  matter  before  the  king 
in  an  advantageous  manner,  so  that  he  may  be  ordered  to  proceed  in 
spite  of  the  unjust  objection  of  the  grand-masters,  or  not  to  speak  of 
of  it  as  yet,  so  that  Du  Verney  may  have  time  to  have  a  conversa- 
tion with  him  on  hie  return,  similar  to  that  which  he  has  held  with 
M.  de  Beaumont.  However,  if  Mesdames  have  given  the  memorial 
to  the  king,  and  intimated  to  him  that  they  were  interested  in  its  suc- 
cess, and  that  all  honest  persons  hope  the  unfortunate  young  man 
will  not  be  the  victim  of  envy  and  calxmmy,  Du  Verney  thinks  the 
controller-general  can  have  no  reason  for  wishing  to  ruin  M.  de  Beau- 
marchais,  and  a  thousand  for  serving  him,  since  Mesdames  honor  him 
with  their  protection.  Du  Verney  entreats  Mesdames  to  be  kind 
enough  to  let  him  know  what  has  been  done,  that  he  may  act  ac- 
cordingly." 

The  portrait  which  Du  Verney  gives  us  elsewhere  of  young 
Beaumarchais  is  one  which  rather  clashes  with  the  notion 
that  is  generally  formed  of  the  author  of  the  "  Marriage  of 
Figaro."  "Since  I  have  known  him,"  he  writes  to  the  min- 
ister, "and  he  has  been  intimate  with  me,  every  thing  has 
shown  that  he  is  an  upright  young  man,  whose  noble  mind, 
excellent  heart,  and  polished  wit  merit  the  love  and  esteem 
of  all  honest  persons ;  with  the  experience  of  misfortune,  and 
the  teachings  of  the  opposition  he  has  met  with,  he  will  owe 
his  advancement,  if  he  obtain  it,  to  his  good  qualities  alone." 

Beaumarchais,  in  his  turn,  after  exhausting  every  mode  of 

*  Controller-general  of  the  Finances. 

t  M.  Moreau  de  Beaumont,  Intendant  of  the  Finances,  under  whose 
jarisdiction  were  the  waters  and  forests. 

D2 


82  BEAUMAfeCHAIS  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

application,  defends  himself  against  the  persecution  of  the 
grand-masters  in  a  sufficiently  comic  style ;  since,  instead  of 
proving  that  he  himself  is  noble,  he  now  confines  himself  to 
proving  that  his  adversaries  are  not  so. 

"  Neither  my  inclination,"  he  writes  to  the  minister,  "  nor  my  prin- 
ciples allow  me  to  play  the  odious  part  of  informer,  still  less  to  at- 
tempt to  vilify  persons  whose  associate  I  am  anxious  to  become  ; 
but  I  think  that,  without  oflfending  delicacy,  I  may  use  the  same  arms 
against  my  adversaries  with  which  they  are  endeavoring  to  over- 
come me. 

"  The  grand-masters  have  never  allowed  their  memorial  to  be  com- 
municated, which  is  not  fair  fighting,  and  proves  that  they  are  afraid 
I  may  answer  them  with  advantage  ;  but  I  am  told  their  objection  is 
that  my  father  was  an  artist,  and  that,  however  celebrated  a  man 
may  be  in  his  art,  such  a  condition  is  incompatible  with  the  honors 
of  the  grand-rangership. 

"  In  reply,  I  will  pass  in  review  the  family  and  previous  position 
of  several  of  the  grand-masters,  about  whom  very  accurate  particu- 
lars have  been  supplied  to  me. 

"  1.  The  name  of  M.  d'Arbonnes,  grand-master  of  Orleans,  and 
one  of  my  warmest  antagonists,  is  Herve,  and  he  is  the  son  of  Her- 
ve  the  hairdresser.  I  can  mention  ten  living  persons  to  whom  this 
Herve  has  sold  wigs,  and  placed  them  on  their  heads ;  I  am  told,  in 
answer  to  this,  that  Herve  was  a  dealer  in  hair.  WTiat  a  distinc- 
tion !  It  is  ridiculous  in  the  spirit,  and  false  in  the  letter ;  for  no  one 
can  sell  hair  in  Paris  without  being  received  as  a  hairdresser,  or  oth- 
erwise must  sell  it  surreptitiously  :  but  he  was  a  hairdresser.  How- 
ever, Herve  d'Arbonnes  was  received  as  a  grand-master  without  op- 
position, although  during  his  youth  he  had  perhaps  followed  his  fa- 
ther's failing  for  the  profession  in  question. 

"  2.  The  name  of  M.  de  Marizy,  who  was  appointed  grand-master 
of  Burgundy  five  or  six  years  since,  is  Legrand,  and  he  is  the  son 
of  Legrand  the  wool-winder  in  the  Faubourg  St.  Marceau,  who  aft- 
erward built  a  little  shop  for  the  sale  of  blankets,  near  the  market  of 
St.  Laurent,  where  he  made  some  money.  His  son  married  the 
daughter  of  La  Fontaine-Sellier,  took  the  name  of  Marizy,  and  was 
received  as  grand-master  without  opposition. 

"3.  M.  Telles,  grand-master  of  Ch^ons,  is  the  son  of  a  Jew 
named  Tell^s-Dacosta,  who  was  originally  a  second-hand  jeweler, 
and  who  afterward  made  his  fortune  through  MM.  Paris.  He  was 
received  without  opposition,  and  afterward  excluded,  as  I  am  told, 
from  the  assemblies,  because  he  resumed  his  father's  trade,  about 
.which  matter  I  know  nothing. 


THE    LIEUTENANT-GEXEllAL   OF   THE   PRESERVES.  83 

"  4.  M.  Duvaucel,  grand-master  of  Paris,  is  the  son  of  a  Duvaucel 
who  was  the  son  of  a  button-maker ;  he  was  afterward  shopman  at 
his  brother's  in  the  little  Rue  aux  Fers,  then  a  partner  in  his  broth- 
er's business,  and  finally  master  of  the  shop.  M.  Duvaucel  met  with 
no  obstacle  to  his  reception.^* 

Beaumarchais,  as  may  be  seen,  had  to  contend  with  aristo- 
crats whose  genealogy  was  not  more  formidable  than  his  own, 
but  who,  for  that  very  reason,  were  only  the  more  inveterate 
against  a  candidate  whom  they  could  not  forgive,  either  for 
his  youth,  his  rapid  advancement,  his  wit,  or  his  success  in  so- 
ciety. In  spite  of  his  efforts,  in  spite  of  the  patronage  of  the 
princesses,  and  the  support  of  Paris  du  Vemej,  he  could  not 
succeed  in  overcoming  the  open  opposition  of  the  grand-mas- 
ters ;  the  minister  sided  with  them,  and  the  consent  of  the 
king  was  not  given-  This  painful  check  at  the  commencement 
of  an  administrative  career  which  might  have  been  brilliant, 
went  to  Beaumarchais'  heart ;  the  obstacles  which  proceeded 
from  his  humble  origin  became  more  and  more  numerous,  and 
it  is  not  astonishing  that  his  genius  exhibited  a  democratic  and 
subversive  tone  up  to  the  period  of  the  Revolution.  However, 
the  true  aristocracy  were  less  hostile  to  him  than  the  counter- 
feit patricians,  who  were  taking  possession  of  every  thing  in 
the  latter  days  of  the  ancient  regime.  The  circumstance  which 
proves  that  personal  antipathy  was  the  only  motive  of  the  op- 
position of  the  grand-masters,  and  that  no  important  reason 
rendered  Beaumarchais  unworthy  of  taking  his  place  among 
them,  is,  tliat  some  months  afterward  he  was  able  to  pur- 
chase, receive,  and  perform  the  duties  of  an  office,  which  was 
much  less  lucrative,  it  is  true,  than  the  other  one,  but  far  more 
aristocratic  than  the  former  one ;  an  office  which  invested  him 
with  judicial  functions,  and  which  gave  him  precedence  over 
persons  of  a  much  loftier  birth  than  himself.  To  console  and 
avenge  himself  for  not  having  been  able  to  procure  admittance 
into  the  order  of  the  grand-rangers  of  the  waters  and  forests, 
he  purchased  the  office  of  Lieutenant-general  of  the  Preserves  in 
the  Bailiicick,  and  Captainry  of  the  Warren  of  the  Louvre :  his 
nomination  was  presented  for  the  king's  consent  by  the  Duke 
de  La  Valliere,*  captain-general  of  the  preserves,  whose  chief 
*  Grand-nephew  of  the  celebrated  duchess  of  that  name. 


84  BEAUMAKCIIAIS    AND    HIS   TIMES. 

officer  Beaumarchais  now  became,  having  beneath  him  the 
Count  of  Kochechouart  and  the  Count  of  Marcouville,  who 
were  merely  lieutenants  of  the  preserves.  Now  it  is  evident 
that  if  at  this  period  there  had  been  any  thing  serious  to  al- 
lege against  the  honor  of  Beaumarchais,  the  three  persons 
whom  I  have  just  named  would  never  have  accepted  him 
without  opposition ;  one  as  his  representative,  the  other  two 
as  their  superior,  in  the  performance  of  functions  of  a  judicial 
character — for  such  was  the  nature  of  the  semi-feudal  office 
which  Beaumarchais  held,  and  which  he  filled  with  the  most 
scrupulous  care  for  a  period  of  twenty-two  years. 

We  may  here  explain  briefly  in  what  this  office  consisted, 
in  the  exercise  of  which  it  is  difficult  to  imagine  the  author 
of  the  "  Marriage  of  Figaro"  without  a  laugh.  Captainry  was 
the  name  given  to  a  district  over  which  the  king  reserved  the 
exclusive  right  of  sporting.  The  one  which  bore  the  name  of 
the  Warren  of  the  Louvre  extended  to  a  radius  of  twelve  or 
fifteen  leagues  round  Paris.  In  order  to  maintain  the  exclu- 
sive right  of  the  king,  and  to  decide  upon  all  cases  in  which  it 
appeared  to  be  infringed  upon,  there  was  a  special  tribunal — 
the  Tribunal  of  the  Warren  of  the  Louvre — called  the  "Tribu- 
nal for  the  Conservation  of  the  King's  Pleasures"  which  ar- 
raigned and  punished,  on  the  accusation  of  the  officers  and 
keepers  of  the  Captainry,  every  individual  who  acted  in  con- 
travention of  the  decrees  destined  to  guard  the  royal  privilege. 
These  decrees  were  very  numerous,  and  very  vexatious  to  the 
landowner,  who  could  neither  kill  the  game,  nor  construct  a 
new  paling,  nor  make  any  alterations  in  his  ground  without 
obtaining  an  authorization  to  do  so.  Accordingly,  the  sup- 
pression of  the  Captainries  in  1789  was  one  of  the  most  pop- 
ular measures  passed  by  the  Constituent  Assembly.  The  tri- 
bunal in  question  held  its  sittings  at  the  Louvre,  and  was  pre- 
sided over  by  the  Duke  de  la  Valliere,  captain-general,  or,  in 
his  absence — that  is  to  say,  almost  always — ^by  Lieutenant-gen- 
eral Beaumarchais,  who  came  there  every  week,  and  sat  down 
in  a  long  robe  on  the  fleurs  de  lis  to  judge  gravely,  not  "  les 
pales  kumains"  but  "  les  jidles  lapins."  The  fact  is  that  he  con- 
demned "  pallid  men"  to  fine  or  imprisonment  quickly  enough, 
only  it  was  about  some  question  of  rabbits  that  he  did  so. 


BEACMARCIIAIS    ON   THE   JUDGMENT-SEAT.  85 

The  following  is  an  extract  from  one  of  the  numerous  sen- 
tences which  Beaumarchais  passed  every  week,  and  which 
were  posted  up  throughout  the  district  of  the  Captainry.  The 
reader  may  wish  to  see  the  multiform  individual  who  is  the 
subject  of  this  work  in  the  somewhat  novel  character  of  a 
serious  Bridoison.* 

"  On  the  part  of  the  King,  and  Monseigneur  the  Duke  de  la  Val- 
li^re,  Peer  and  Grand-falconer  of  France,  &c.,  or  his  Lieutenant- 
general  ; 

Sentence, 

Which  condemns  the  said  Ragondet,  farmer,  to  a  fine  of  one  hund- 
red livres  for  not  having  conformed  to  the  terms  of  Article  24  of 
the  royal  decree  of  1669,  and  to  pull  down  the  shed  and  outer  walls 
mentioned  in  the  report  of  the  24th  of  the  present  month  of  July." 

The  judgment  concludes  as  follows : 

"  Done  and  given  by  Messire  Pierre- Augustin  Caron  de  Beaumar- 
chais, Equerry  and  King's  Counselor,  Lieutenant-general  of  the 
Bailiwick,  and  Captainry  of  the  Warren  of  the  Louvre,  and  of  the 
Grand  Venery  of  France,  holding  his  sittings  in  the  audience  cham- 
ber, situate  in  the  chateau  of  the  Louvre,  this  Thursday,  the  31st 
July,  1766. 
"  Collated  :  Debret.        Signed  :  Devitry,  Registrar-in-Chief." 

In  1773,  after  having  exercised  these  superb  functions  for 
ten  years,  Messire  Caron  de  Beaumarchais  happened  to  get 
sent  by  a  lettre  de  cachet  to  For-l'-Eveque,  whereupon  it  was 
determined  to  dispute  his  title  to  the  lieutenant-generalship. 
He  at  once,  from  the  depth  of  his  prison,  asserted  his  claim  in 
a  letter  to  the  Duke  de  la  Valliere,  in  which  he  evinces  all 
the  pride  and  haughtiness  of  a  baron  of  the  Middle  Ages. 

"Monsieur  le  Due, — Pierre- Augustin  Caron  de  Beaumarchais, 
Lieutenant-general  at  the  seat  of  your  Captainry,  has  the  honor  to 
represent  to  you  that,  as  his  detention  by  order  of  the  king  does  not 
deprive  him  of  his  functions  in  the  state,  he  has  been  much  surprised 
to  learn  that,  without  attending  to  the  order  concerning  the  Captainry 
dated  May  17, 1754,  which  sets  forth  that  every  officer  who  does  not 
produce  a  valid  excuse  for  not  finding  himself  at  the  reception  of  a 

*  Some  of  our  readers  may  be  unaware  that  Bridoison  is  the  judge 
who  appears  in  the  "Marriage  of  Figaro ;"  a  species  of  Dogberry,  sug- 
gested, as  far  at  least  as  regards  the  name,  by  the  Bridoison  (Justice 
Bridlegoose)  of  Rabelais.— Trass. 


86  BEAUMAKCHAIS    AND    HIS   TIMES. 

new  officer,  shall  be  deprived  of  his  droit  de  bougies,*  the  registrar 
of  the  Captainry  has  not  only  made  a  distribution  of  bougies,  in  which 
all  mention  of  the  name  and  droit  de  bougies  of  your  petitioner  were 
suppressed  by  the  most  culpable  infringement  of  the  said  order — since 
*here  can  be  no  more  valid  excuse  for  being  absent  from  the  tribunal 
on  a  reception  day  than  that  of  having  had  the  misfortune  to  be  ar- 
rested by  order  of  the  king — but  has  even  made  over  to  another  offi- 
cer the  right  to  distribute  and  sign  orders  for  the  delivery  of  the  said 
bougies,  which  from  all  time  have  belonged  to  the  lieutenant-general 
of  your  seat. 

"  The  punctuality  and  zeal  with  which  your  petitioner  has  always 
fulfilled  the  duties  of  his  office  up  to  the  present  time  make  him  hope, 
M.  le  Due,  that  you  will  be  pleased  to  maintain  him  in  all  the  privi- 
leges of  the  said  office,  against  every  attempt  which  may  be  made 
to  his  disadvantage.  When  M.  de  Schomberg  was  at  the  Bastille, 
the  king  thought  that  he  should  continue  his  duties  in  connection 
with  the  Swiss  whom  he  had  the  honor  to  command.  The  same 
thing  happened  to  M.  le  Due  du  Maine. f  Your  petitioner  is  perhaps 
the  least  worthy  of  the  officers  of  your  captainry,  but  he  has  the 
honor  to  be  the  lieutenant-general,  and  you  will  certainly  not  disap- 
prove, M.  le  Due,  of  his  endeavoring  to  prevent  the  highest  office  of 
your  captainry  from  being  lowered  while  in  his  hands,  and  his  affairs 
from  being  interfered  with  by  any  other  officer  to  his  detriment. 

"  Caron  de  Beacmarchais." 

Beaumarchais  had  been  just  able  to  support  his  imprison- 
ment at  For-l'-Eveque.  To  him,  a  nobleman  of  recent  origin, 
it  was  what  the  Bastille  was  to  a  Schomberg ;  but  when,  in 
1785,  by  a  most  scandalous  abuse  of  authority,  he  was  im- 
prisoned for  five  days  in  a  house  of  correction,  the  pride  of  the 
lieutenant-general  of  the  preserves  was  wounded,  and  he  mag- 
nanimously resigned  in  the  following  letter  to  the  Duke  de 
Coigny,  who  had  succeeded  the  Duke  de  la  Valliere. 

"  Paris,  March  22,  1T85. 

"  Monsieur  le  Due, — The  insult  which  I  have  received,  without 
deserving  it,  from  a  hand  which  I  respect  so  deeply,  that  I  can  only 
grieve  in  silence  until  the  most  convincing  proofs  of  my  innoctence 
be  placed  under  the  king's  eyes ;  the  insult,  I  say,  which  I  have  re- 

*  At  the  Tribunal  of  the  Warren  of  the  LouvTe :  this  was  the  name 
given  to  a  pecuniary  allowance  which  was  granted  to  every  member  who 
was  present  on  certain  ofEcial  occasions. 

t  The  reader  sees  that  Messire  Caron  de  Beaumarchais  does  not  look 
for  his  precedents  among  plebeians.  He  must  have  Schombergs,  and 
princes  of  the  blood. 


A  la>vyer's  letter.  87 

ceived,  Monsieur  le  Due,  having  struck  me  out  of  the  society  of  men, 
I  have  sentenced  myself  to  a  perpetual  imprisonment  at  home  ;  and 
as  you,  Monsieur  le  Due  de  Coigny,  can  not  be  affected  in  any  way 
by  so  strange  an  event,  I  have  the  honor  to  beg  that  you  will  accept 
the  resignation  of  my  functions  as  your  lieutenant-general.  This 
change  in  my  position  will  in  no  way  alter  the  respectful  attachment 
with  which  I  am.  Monsieur  le  Due,  &c., 

"  Caron  de  Beaumahchais." 

Four  years  after  this  last  letter  there  existed  neither  cap- 
tainry  nor  tribunal  of  the  warren  of  the  Lountc,  and  "  Mes- 
sire,  the  ex-lieutenant-general,"  had  become  simply  Citizen 
Beaumarchais. 

A  person  who  had  lived  within  his  jurisdiction,  and  who  had 
retained  a  spite  against  him  on  account  of  some  decision  on 
behalf  of  the  latter  in  favor  of  the  "  conservation  of  the  royal 
pleasures,"  got  an  advocate  to  write  a  letter  to  him  upon  the 
subject,  which  was  full  of  insults  and  threats,  and  to  which 
the  author  of  the  "Marriage  of  Figaro"  replied  like  a  man 
who  had  completely  cast  off  his  judicial  robes.  It  is  quite  in 
Beaumarchais'  natural  style. 

"  September  4, 1790. 
"  I  have  received  the  very  kind  letter  of  a  gentleman  who  signs 
Germain,  or  St.  Germain,  and  who  calls  himself  the  advocate  of  a 
M.  Merle,  on  which  I  congratulate  his  client  WTien  I  was  lieuten- 
ant-general of  the  tribunal  for  the  conservation  of  the  king's  pleas- 
ures, I  was  condemned  to  hear  all  that  had  to  be  said  by  plaintiffs  and 
defendants,  and  I  acted  according  to  my  equity,  my  intelligence,  and 
the  text  of  the  law,  which  I  endeavored  to  soften  as  much  as  possi- 
ble ;  but  at  the  present  time,  when,  thank  Heaven,  there  are  no  pre- 
serves to  protect,  and  no  tribunals  for  protecting  them,  I  am  spared 
the  annoyance  of  having  to  receive  and  reply  to  petitions.  Accord- 
ingly I  beg  M.  Germain,  or  St.  Germain,  the  advocate,  to  aim  his  let- 
ters at  objects  by  which  my  youth  may  yet  profit. 

"  Caron-Beaumarchais." 

It  was  in  1790  that  Beaumarchais  spoke  with  so  much  lev- 
ity of  his  former  functions  as  lieutenant-general  of  the  pre- 
serves. At  the  period  at  which  we  have  arrived,  that  is  to 
say,  in  1763,  he  little  thought  that  the  Kevolution  would  abol- 
ish the  feudal  office  of  which,  for  a  time,  he  had  been  so  proud. 
He  used  to  divide  his  time  between  the  duties  of  this  office, 
tiie  functions  of  controller  of  the  king's  household,  and  of  those 


88  BEATJMARCHAIS   AND    HIS   TIMES. 

of  king's  secretary,  without  neglecting  the  three  or  four  indus- 
trial enterprises  in  which  he  was  engaged,  and  without  forget- 
ting his  private  pleasures,  which  he  never  did  forget,  nor  his 
affection  for  his  family,  which  throughout  hfe  occupied  a  large 
place  in  his  thoughts.  He  had  bought  a  pleasant  house  in  the 
Rue  de  Conde,  in  which  he  installed  his  father  and  his  young- 
er sisters,  who  were  unmarried,  and  where  he  used  to  pass  all 
his  leisure  hours,  when  a  letter  from  one  of  his  sisters  at  Mad- 
rid determined  him  to  set  out  for  Spain. 


CHAPTER  V. 

Beaumarchais  and  Clavijo. — Beaumarchais  at  Madrid. — A  Breach  of 
Promise  of  Marriage. — M.  de  Grimaldi. — Beaumarchais  in  the  Com- 
missariat.— Beaumarchais'  Seguedillas. — Beaumarchais  at  the  Card- 
table. — ^Beaumarchais  and  Voltaire. — The  Spanish  Drama. 

BEAUirAECHAis'  affair  with  Clavijo  in  1764  is  sufficiently 
well  known  by  the  graphic  narrative  of  the  transaction  which 
he  himself  published  ten  years  afterwai'd,  in  February,  1774, 
in  his  fourth  memorial  against  Goezman.  It  will  suffice,  there- 
fore, here  to  verify  the  principal  details  of  this  narrative  Uy 
means  of  the  private  correspondence  I  have  before  me. 

It  will  be  remembered  that  two  of  Beaumarchais'  sisters, 
one  of  whom  had  married  an  architect,  had  gone  to  estabUsh 
themselves  at  Madrid.  A  Spanish  man  of  letters,  named  Jo- 
seph Clavigo,  had  fallen  in  love  with  the  younger  of  the  two 
sisters ;  promises  of  marriage  had  been  exchanged ;  and  this 
marriage  was  to  be  concluded  as  soon  as  the  young  man,  who 
was  without  fortune,  should  obtain  an  appointment  which  he 
was  soliciting.  The  appointment  had  been  obtained  and  the 
banns  published,  when  Clavijo  suddenly  refused  to  perform  his 
promise,  thus  gravely  injuring  the  domestic  tranquillity  as  well 
as  the  reputation  of  Beaumarchais'  sister.  It  was  under  these 
circumstances  that  the  latter  arrived  in  Madrid,  where,  by  a 
combination  of  energy,  coolness,  and  dexterity,  he  forced  from 
Clavijo  a  declaration  little  honorable  to  himself,  but  offering 
a  secure  guarantee  for  the  honor  of  Mademoiselle  Caron. 


BEAUMARCHAIS   AND    CLAVIJO.  89 

Within  a  short  time,  the  Spaniard,  terrified  at  seeing  himself 
exposed  to  the  enmity  of  so  resolute  an  adversary,  solicited  a 
reconciliation  with  his  affianced  bride.  To  this  Beaumarchais 
consented  to  lend  his  aid  ;  the  reconciliation  was  satisfactorily 
efiected,  when,  at  the  very  moment  that  Beaumarchais  thought 
the  marriage  was  about  to  take  place,  he  learned  that  Clavijo 
was  secretly  plotting  against  him,  and  that,  by  accusing  him 
of  being  engaged  in  a  conspiracy,  he  had  obtained  from  the 
government  an  order  for  his  arrest,  and  for  his  expulsion  from 
Madrid.  The  irritated  Beaumarchais  hastened  to  the  minis- 
ters, penetrated  even  to  the  presence  of  the  king,  justified  him- 
self completely,  and  revenged  himself  upon  his  treacherous  foe 
by  obtaining  his  dismissal  from  the  post  he  held — that  of  keep- 
er of  the  archives — and  his  ejection  from  the  court. 

Such,  reduced  to  its  simplest  form,  is  the  history  of  an  epi- 
sode in  his  life  which  Beaumarchais  has  been  able  to  invest 
with  the  most  lively  attraction.  When  we  read  his  Memori- 
al, written  ten  years  after  the  events  narrated,  we  are  natural- 
ly led  to  seek  to  verify  its  exactitude.  In  a  short  notice  of 
Clavijo,*  Beaumarchais  is  accused  of  calumniating  the  un- 
faithful lover  of  his  sister,  and  of  drawing  a  "  hideous  por- 
trait" of  him.  It  is  very  probable  that,  in  order  to  excite 
more  interest  for  himself,  Beaumarchais  may  have,  in  some 
degree,  overcharged  his  adversary's  picture ;  but  beyond  the 
fact  that  it  is  an  exaggeration  to  accuse  him  of  having  drawn 
a  "  hideous  portrait,"!  it  is  certain  that  the  chief  points  of  the 
narrative  published  in  1774  are  in  perfect  harmony  with  the 
private  correspondence  of  1764.  Thus  the  authenticity  of 
Clavijo's  first  declaration,  in  which  he  avows  "  having  broken 

*  Published  in  the  "  Biojn'aphie  Universelle." 

t  This  Joseph  Clavijo,  who  aftenvard  became  a  WTiter  of  distinction, 
was  unlucky  enough  to  have  to  exist  for  years  after  an  event  he  1  a.d 
almost  forgotten,  stigmatized  with  the  atrocious  character  drawn  of  Iiim 
by  Beaumarchais.  During  his  own  lifetime  he  saw  himself  gibbeted  on 
the  public  stage  by  Giithe  as  a  melo-dramatic  villain ;  but  villainy  in 
love  does  not  always  injure  a  man  ;  and  that  of  Clavijo  did  not  prevent 
him  obtaining  considerable  success  at  Madrid,  where  he  edited  the 
"  Historical  and  Political  Mercurj-,"  translated  BufFon  into  Spanish, 
and  where  he  died  in  1806,  Vice-director  of  the  Museiun  of  Natural 
History. 


90  BEAUMARCHAIS    AND    HIS   TIMES. 

a  promise  of  honor  without  pretext  and  without  excuse,"  and 
of  which  avowal  his  subsequent  conduct  much  increases  the 
gravity,  is  fully  confirmed  by  the  family  documents.  This 
confession  of  Clavijo's  gave  rise,  indeed,  to  the  following  let- 
ter, written  by  old  M.  Caron  to  his  son  at  Madrid,  in  which, 
beneath  the  outer  casing  of  the  old  watchmaker,  we  find  traces 
of  the  former  dragoon  : 

"  Paris,  June  5, 17G4. 

- "  What  delight  it  affords  me,  my  dear  Beaumarchais,  to  be  bless- 
ed with  a  son  whose  actions  so  gloriously  crown  the  end  of  my  ca- 
reer !  I  can  see  at  a  glance  how  beneficial  the  generous  action  you 
have  done  will  be  to  the  honor  of  my  dear  Lisette.  What  a  splen- 
did marriage  present  for  her,  my  friend,  will  be  this  same  declaration 
of  Clavtcoi's  !*  If  we  may  judge  of  the  cause  by  the  effect,  he  must 
have  been  terribly  frightened.  Assuredly,  I  myself  would  not,  for 
the  empire  of  Mahom,with  that  of  Trebisonde  into  the  bargain,  have 
written  and  signed  such  a  document ;  it  covers  you  with  glor)'  and 
him  with  shame.  By  the  same  post  I  have  received  two  letters  from 
my  charming  countess  (the  Countess  of  Fuen-Clara),  addressed  to 
Julie  and  myself — so  charming,  so  touching,  so  full  of  expressions  of 
tenderness  toward  me,  and  of  honorable  mention  of  you,  that  I  am 
sure  you  would  participate  in  the  pleasure  I  have  experienced  in  their 
perusal.  You  have  enchanted  her.  She  seems  never  tired  in  re- 
joicing at  knowing  you — in  longing  to  be  of  service  to  you,  and  so 
expressing  her  delight  that  all  the  Spaniards  approve  of,  and  praise 
your  behavior  to  C/arico.f  She  could  not  be  more  delighted  had 
she  been  enabled  to  call  you  entirely  her  own.  I  entreat  you  not  to 
neglect  her.  Adieu,  my  dear  Beaumarchais,  my  honor,  my  glory, 
my  crown,  the  joy  of  my  heart.  Accept  a  thousand  embraces  from 
the  tenderest  of  fathers  and  the  best  of  friends.  Caron." 

This  letter  proves  that  Beaumarchais  does  not  violate  truth 
when  in  his  Memorial  against  Goezman  he  represents  himself 
saying  to  Clavijo,  "I  am  not  about  here  to  assume  the  part 
of  one  of  those  stage  brothers  who  wish  their  sisters  to  be  mar- 
ried."    It  was,  indeed,  not  so  much  to  force  his  sister  upon 

*  At  this  time  Mademoiselle  Caron 's  marriage  with  another  person 
was  in  contemplation. 

t  It  is  plain  from  this,  that  if,  ten  years  afterward,  Beaumarchais  did 
paint  himself  in  somewhat  flattering  colors,  the  testimony  of  the  Count- 
ess of  Fuen-Clara,  a  lady  of  advanced  age,  and  enjoying  great  consid- 
eration, places  it  beyond  doubt  that  his  conduct  had  gained  him  many 
partisans  in  Spain. 


A  BREACH  OF  BKOMISE  OF  MABBIAGE.         91 

Clavijo  by,  as  it  were,  holding  a  pistol  to  his  head,  as  to  se- 
cure a  safeguard  for  her  reputation,  with  a  view  to  her  event- 
i^al  marriage  with  a  Frenchman  named  Durand,  who  was  es- 
tablished at  Madrid.  We  are  led  to  this  conclusion  by  the  fol- 
lowing passage  from  a  letter  written  by  Beaumarchais,  and 
dated  the  loth  of  August,  1764,  in  which  we  find  a  correspond- 
ing justification  of  other  assertions  made  in  the  Memorial  pub- 
lished in  ITT-l. 

"  I  found  my  Spanish  sister  nearly  married  to  Durand ;  for  in  the 
state  of  discredit  into  which  the  poor  child,  with  her  girlish  notions, 
imagined  herself  to  have  fallen,  the  first  honest  man  who  ofiered  him- 
self was  almost  a  divinity  to  her.  My  arrival  having,  in  some  meas- 
ure, rectified  her  ideas,  and  on  finding  myself  disposed,  from  my  own 
personal  views,  and  also  from  the  advice  of  my  embassador,  to  pre- 
fer Clavijo,  who  I  had  every  right  to  believe  was  thoroughly  cured 
of  his  former  aberrations — from  all  the  means  he  employed  to  per- 
suade me  of  the  fact — I  found  it  necessary  to  use,  in  the  first  instance, 
gentle  means,  in  order  to  sever  a  bond  which  hope  and  habit  had  ce- 
mented on  either  side." 

These  details  thoroughly  harmonize  with  that  part  of  the 
Memorial  of  1774:  in  which  Beaumarchais  represents  himself 
as  having  been  seduced  by  Clavijo  into  becoming  his  advocate 
with  his  sister.  In  other  letters  he  narrates  the  Spaniard's 
underhand  proceedings,  his  duplicity,  and  the  vengeance  he  at 
length,  though  with  considerable  hesitation,  inflicted  on  him. 

"  This  coxcomb  Clavijo,"  he  writes, "  boasted  that  he  had  not  yet 
lost  his  appointment,  and  that  he  was  all  the  while  drawing  his  sala- 
ry secretly.  He  talked  about  it  too  openly  and  too  often.  I  heard 
of  it  in  my  turn,  and  my  pity  immediately  changed  into  indignation. 
His  post  is  given  away.  It  now  only  remains  to  him  either  to  turn 
capuchin  or  to  leave  the  country.  He  is  completely  crushed ;  yet 
even  now  my  sentiments  of  pity  toward  him  return;  but  this  time, 
alas !  they  must  be  fruitless." 

A  journal  of  the  whole  of  these  transactions  had  been  kept 
at  the  actual  time  of  their  occurrence  by  Beaumarchais ;  this 
journal,  which  served  as  a  basis  for  the  narrative  published  by 
him  ten  years  afterward,  is  not  to  be  found  among  his  papers, 
but  its  existence  is  confirmed  by  many  passages  in  his  corre- 
spondence, and  especially  so  by  this  note,  written  in  1764  to  M. 
Caron,  senior,  by  an  abbe'  to  whom  the  contents  of  the  journal 
in  question  had  been  communicated. 


92  BEAUMARCHAIS   AND   HIS   TIMES. 

"  I  have  read  and  re-read,  sir,  the  account  sent  you  from  Madrid. 
I  am  overjoyed  at  all  it  contains  ;  your  son  appears  in  the  light  of  a 
true  hero.  I  am  happy  to  recognize  in  him  the  wittiest  of  men,  the 
tenderest  of  brothers ;  honor,  firmness — each  quality  shines  in  his 
proceedings  with  Clavico.  It  wUl  delight  me  to  see  the  issue  of  an 
affair  which  interests  me  so  much.  I  am  exceedingly  grateful  for 
your  attention ;  the  only  claim  I  have  to  it  lies  in  the  sentiments  of 
esteem  and  friendship  which  I  entertain  for  you,  and  for  the  whole 
of  your  respectable  and  amiable  family,  and  with  which  I  have  the 
honor  to  be,  &c.,  &c.,  The  Abbe  de  Malespine. 

"  June  3,  1764." 

Thus  it  was  no  romance,  as  has  been  sometimes  said,  but  a 
true  story,  which  inspired  the  author  of  the  Memorials  against 
Goezman  to  write  perhaps  the  best  pages  that  ever  proceeded 
from  his  pen,  and  it  was,  indeed,  fortunate  for  him  to  be  pro- 
voked by  an  anonymous  letter  vilifying  and  calumniating  his 
conduct  at  Madrid  into  thus  admitting  the  public  to  his  confi- 
dence. 

So  much  for  the  Clavijo  adventure ;  but  this  adventure  only 
occupied  a  month.  Commenced  at  the  end  of  May,  1764,  it 
was  spoken  of  no  more  at  the  end  of  June,  and  Beaumarchais 
remained  more  than  a  year  at  Madrid :  he  only  left  that  city 
at  the  end  of  March,  1765.  "What  was  he  doing  there?  We 
shall  soon  learn  from  his  correspondence,  and  he  will  there  ap- 
pear in  his  own  proper  character,  with  all  the  vivacity  and  va- 
riety of  his  nature.  ' 

He  had  left  Paris  in  order  to  avenge  his  sister ;  but  he  was 
not  a  man  to  travel  so  far  for  a  single  object ;  his  intentions 
were  not  only  to  transact  business,  but  a  great  deal  of  business. 
From  tills  point  of  view,  Spain,  in  1764,  presented  a  new  and 
attractive  field  of  enterprise  for  imaginative  speculatoi*s  such 
as  Beaumarchais  essentially  was.  He  arrived  with  a  head  full 
of  projects,  and  a  pocket  furnished  with  200,000  francs  in  notes 
payable  to  the  bearer,  which  had  been  intrusted  to  him  by  Du 
Verney  (though  it  must  be  added  that  the  latter  had  forbidden 
him  to  make  use  of  them  without  his  express  authority),  and 
which  had  been  given  to  him  to  enable  him  to  assume  an  in- 
fluential standing  with  the  Spanish  ministry.  He  brought  with 
him,  too,  numerous  letters  of  recommendation  from  the  court 
to  the  embassador  of  France ;  and  he  had  scarcely  arrived  be- 


M.  DE   GKEtfALDI.  93 

fore  he  was  launched  into  that  vortex  of  industrial  enterprises,  - 
of  pleasures,  of  fetes,  of  gallantries,  of  music,  of  songs,  that 
seems  always  to  have  been  his  element.  In  the  flower  of  his 
youth,  in  the  thirty-second  year  of  his  age,  all  his  wit,  all  his 
imagination,  all  his  gayety,  all  his  enthusiasm,  all  his  faculties, 
in  a  word,  were  at  their  acme  of  development.  We  have  here 
the  Almaviva  and  the  Figaro  of  the  "  Barber  of  Seville"  blend- 
ed together,  with  a  touch  of  Sir  Charles  Grandison,  and,  withal, 
some  shades  of  character  that  remind  us  of  the  most  celebrated 
speculators  of  our  own  times. 

"  I  pursue  my  business  transactions,"  he  writes  to  his  father, "  with 
the  obstinacy  you  know  me  to  possess ;  but  in  all  matters  between 
Frenchman  and  Spaniard  I  find  success  very  hard  ;  I  shall  have  some 
fine  details  to  give  you  when  I  come  back  to  warm  myself  at  your 
fireside. 

"  I  work,  I  write,  I  confer,  I  draw  up,  I  represent,  I  defend,  I  op- 
pose :  such  is  my  life.  The  Marquis  Grimaldi,  the  most  gallant 
gentleman  that  was  ever  at  the  head  of  a  ministry,  is  my  passion ; 
his  manners  so  frank,  so  noble,  that  I  can  not  help  being  enchanted 
with  them.  Pray  keep  what  information  I  send  you  within  the  bounds 
of  a  very  narrow  circle  ;  do  not  let  it  pass  beyond  the  walls  of  your 
Httle  retreat.  It  appears  that  they  are  rather  pleased  here  with  the 
manner  in  which  I  have  been  able  to  throw  a  light  on  some  some- 
what thorny  questions  ;*  and  I  can  venture  at  least  to  promise  you 
that  if  I  do  not  succeed  in  every  thing  I  undertake,  I  shall  at  least 
carry  away  with  me  from  this  country  the  esteem  of  all  with  whom 
I  have  had  to  do.  Take  care  of  your  health,  and  believe  me  that 
my  greatest  happiness  will  consist  in  sharing  with  you  whatever  good 
fortune  I  may  meet  with." 

In  another  place  Beaumarchais  writes : 

"  I  am  in  the  prime  of  life.  My  genius  will  never  have  greater 
vigor ;  it  is  my  part  to  work,  yours  to  rest.  I  shall,  perhaps,  suc- 
ceed in  enabling  you  to  fulfill  your  engagements.  I  do  not  tell  you 
all  now,  but,  rely  upon  it,  I  do  not  forget  the  project  which  I  have 
thought  of  so  long,  that  of  placing  you  on  an  equality  with  all  who 
surround  you ;  only  live  carefully,  my  dear  father ;  do  not  neglect 
yourself.  The  time  will  come  when  you  will  enjoy  your  old  age  as 
you  deserve,  free  from  debt,  and  in  the  society  of  your  loving  children. 
I  am  getting  your  son-in-law  appointed  paid  engineer  to  the  king. 

*  Assez  content  du  jour  qm  fai  repandu  sur  quelgues  questions  epi- 

neusses. 


94  BEAUMARCHAIS   AND   HIS   TIMES. 

He  has  become  very  steady,  and  works  like  a  horse  ;  I  urge  him  on 
with  the  spur  of  ambition,  but  he  goes  well  enough  of  his  own  accord. 
If  you  received  any  news  of  me  from  an  inhabitant  of  Madrid,  you 
would  be  told  that  your  son  was  amusing  himself  here  like  a  king ; 
he  spends  all  his  evenings  at  the  house  of  the  Russian  embassador, 
or  at  Lady  Rochford's ;  he  dines  four  times  a  week  with  the  com- 
mander of  the  engineers,  and  drives  in  a  coach  drawn  by  six  mules 
about  the  environs  of  Madrid ;  then  he  goes  to  the  sttio  real  to  see 
M.  de  Grimaldi  and  the  other  ministers.  He  takes  one  of  his  meals 
every  day  at  the  French  embassador's,  so  that  these  visits  are  not 
only  charming,  but  also  put  him  to  very  little  expense.  All  this  re- 
lates to  amusement ;  but  your  friends  must  not  conclude  that  I  am 
neglecting  my  own  business,  for  no  one  has  ever  attended  to  that  but 
myself.  It  is  in  good  society,  for  which  I  was  born,  that  I  find  my 
resources,  and  when  you  see  the  productions  of  my  pen  you  will  per- 
ceive that  I  have  not  walked,  but  run  toward  my  object." 

What,  then,  were  the  works  which  came  from  Beaumar- 
chais'  pen  at  Madrid "?  First  of  all  there  was  a  voluminous 
paper  on  the  concession  of  the  exclusive  right  to  trade  with 
Louisiana  to  a  French  company  organized  on  the  principle  of 
the  India  Company,  and  about  which  Beaumarchais  was  me- 
morializing the  Spanish  ministry.  After  this  came  a  plan,  in 
virtue  of  which  he  asks  for  the  right  of  supplying  all  the  Span- 
ish colonies  with  negroes.  The  idea  is  singular  enough  as 
coming  from  the  author  of  the  little  poem  against  optimism, 
already  alluded  to,  which  contains  a  vehement  denunciation  of 
slavery,  and  which  was  written  only  a  year  before  Beaumar- 
chais' visit  to  Madrid.  It  appears  that  his  speculations  were 
not  arranged  on  the  same  principles  as  his  philosophy.* 

*  Two  years  afterward,  in  1766,  Beaumarchais,  who  had  already  for- 
gotten his  project  for  supplying  the  Spanish  colonies  with  negroes,  wrote 
a  letter  to  the  head  of  the  administrative  department  of  the  navy  in  fa- 
vor of  a  mulatto,  commencing  as  follows  :  "  A  poor  fellow  named  Am- 
broise  Lucas,  whose  only  crime  consists  in  having  a  complexion  almost 
as  dark  as  that  of  the  majority  of  the  free  inhabitants  of  Andalusia, 
with  bro\vn  hair  which  curls  naturally,  large  black  eyes,  and  very  beau- 
tiful teeth,  all  which  is  very  pardonable,  has  been  put  in  prison  on  the 
requisition  of  a  man  who  happens  to  be  a  little  whiter,  named  M. 
Chaillou,  who  had  about  the  same  right  over  the  man  with  the  dark 
complexion  which  the  Ishmaelite  dealers  acquired  over  little  Joseph, 
when  they  purchased  him  from  persons  who  had  no  right  to  sell  him ; 
but  our  religion  has  sublime  principles,  which  harmonize  admirably 
with  the  colonial  system." 


BEAUMARCHAIS    IN   THE    COMMISSARIAT.  95 

The  third  project  which  the  distinguished  traveler  prepared 
at  Madrid,  between  a  concert  and  a  dinner,  was  one  for  the 
colonization  of  the  Sierra  Morena ;  this  was  followed  by  dif- 
ferent other  papers  on  the  advancement  of  agriculture,  manu- 
factures, and  commerce  in  Spain,  and,  finally,  a  new  plan  for 
supplying  the  Spanish  troops  with  provisions.  As  this  last 
scheme  was  much  nearer  being  executed  than  any  of  the  oth- 
ers, we  will  leave  him  to  discuss  it  in  his  own  manner,  in  an 
unpublished  letter  to  his  father,  which  is  very  long,  and  from 
which  I  make  long  quotations,  because  in  its  great  diversity 
it  is  a  living  portrait  of  this  speculator,  philosopher,  and  artist, 
called  Beaumarchais. 

"  Madrid,  Jan.  28,  1765. 
"  Monsieur  and  dearest  Father, — I  have  received  your  letter  of 
Jan.  15,  in  which  you  express  your  astonishment  at  the  manner  in 
which  your  friends  received  your  communication.*  But  what  ap- 
pears to  have  struck  you  with  surprise  would  have  seemed  to  me  a 
natural  thing  enough.  To  preserve  a  good  opinion  of  ourselves,  it  is 
only  necessary  to  neglect  no  portion  of  what  we  undertake  :  to  gain 
the  good  opinion  of  others,  it  is  necessary  to  succeed.  Success  is 
the  only  recognized  test  of  the  ability  of  those  who  speculate.  There- 
fore, if  I  had  been  able  to  stop  the  words  on  your  lips,  I  certainly 
should  have  objected  as  much  as  possible  to  your  communicating  my 
secrets  to  any  one.  My  plans  may  be  the  wisest  possible  ;  I  might 
exhibit  all  the  talent  and  skill  imaginable  for  conducting  so  important 
an  affair  to  a  happy  issue.  If  some  unforeseen  event  caused  my  bark 
to  founder  even  in  the  harbor,  I  should  expect  nothing  but  a  bitter 
smile  from  those  who  would  have  exalted  me  to  the  clouds  if  I  had 
been  favored  by  fortune.  However,  my  dear  father,  you  know  me. 
The  most  comprehensive  and  lofty  projects  are  no  strangers  to  my 
mind.  It  conceives  and  comprehends  with  much  facility  that  which 
would  at  once  check  ordinary  and  indolent  minds.  I  told  you  the 
other  day  that  I  had  just  signed  the  preliminaries ;  I  am  now  much 
more  advanced.  The  hydra  of  seven  heads  was  a  trifle  compared 
with  the  one  of  a  hundred  heads  which  I  have  undertaken  to  over- 
come. But,  at  all  events,  I  have  now  managed  to  make  myself  ab- 
solute master  of  the  enterprise  for  supplying  the  entire  provisions  for 
the  whole  of  the  troops  of  Spain,  Majorca,  and  the  garrisons  on  the 
coast  of  Africa ;  and  those  of  all  persons  living  at  the  king's  ex- 

*  The  father,  who  had  already  heard  of  the  project,  and  who  had 
been  asked  by  his  son  to  keep  it  a  secret,  had  spoken  of  it  in  confidence 
to  some  friends  who  appeared  to  have  doubts  of  its  success. 


96  BEAUMARCHAIS   AND   HIS   TIMES. 

pense.  Our  friend  is  right  in  saying  that  it  is  the  greatest  affair  in 
the  country.  It  amounts  to  more  than  twenty  millions  a  year.  My 
company  is  organized,  my  officials  are  appointed.  I  have  four  car- 
goes of  corn  on  the  voyage,  both  from  New  England  and  from  the 
south,  and  if  I  can  untie  the  last  knot,  I  shall  commence  altogether 
on  the  1st  of  March.  The  persons  who  are  at  present  engaged  in 
the  affair  understand  nothing  about  it,  and  lost  horribly  last  year : 
first,  because  com  was  almost  beyond  price  in  Spain,  while  they  had 
not  a  single  correspondent  abroad ;  secondly,  because  they  had  un- 
dertaken the  contract  at  too  small  a  sum.  I  have  put  them  out  of 
court  by  different  means,  the  combination  of  which  was  very  diffi- 
cult :  finally,  I  have  succeeded  in  introducing  a  spirit  of  conciliation 
and  peace  between  the  partners,  in  place  of  an  animosity  which  was 
as  ruinous  to  them  as  their  mode  of  conducting  business.  They  are 
quite  out  of  the  matter.  What  I  have  to  do  now  is  to  get  my  own 
conditions  accepted  by  the  minister,  who  invites  me  to  open  the  ball, 
but  finds  the  music  rather  dear.     I  can  diminish  nothing  in  my  just 

demands If  my  conditions  be  accepted,  I  engage  to  pay 

the  king  back  about  4,000,000  of  reals  which  he  had  previously  ad- 
vanced on  the  affair ;  provided  always  his  majesty  consents  to  wait 
for  the  money  until  the  last  year  of  the  contract.  *  One  of  the  most 
positive  articles  of  the  agreement  is  the  payment,  which  is  assured 
to  me  on  the  13th  of  every  month,  of  1,800,000  reals,  which  I  am  to 
receive  from  the  royal  treasury.  The  two  partners  who  give  the 
affair  up  to  me  owe  5,000,000  reals  to  different  individuals ;  the  bills 
are  due,  and  they  can  not  pay.  I  have  arranged  every  thing,  so  that 
on  the  day  of  signing  the  treaty  I  shall  hand  them  over  the  5,000,000 
in  their  own  paper ;  and  the  person  who  holds  them  has  made  a 
private  arrangement  with  me  that  these  5,000,000  will  not  be  charged 
to  me  until  the  end  of  my  contract,  and  that  the  day  I  sign  it  he  is 
to  send  me  3,000,000  to  commence  with.     For  this  I  am  to  give  him 

a  third  of  the  profits There  is  some  idea  of  joining  to  this  a 

contract  for  supplying  white  bread  to  all  the  towns  in  Spain,  which 
would  double  the  importance  of  my  enterprise  ;  but  I  mean  to  com- 
mence by  giving  them  a  great  opinion  of  my  mode  of  working,  so 
that,  by  inspiring  confidence,  I  may  gain  advantages  which  it  is  diffi- 
cult for  a  beginner  to  obtain.  I  foresee  that  there  are  other  things 
to  be  connected  vdth  the  above  which  will  make  the  affair  almost 
unlimited.  But  I  must  say,  like  the  honest  Spaniards,  ^oco  a  poco. 
We  must  get  into  the  saddle  before  galloping  away ;  above  all,  we 
must  be  firm  in  the  stirrups.  It  is  nine  in  the  evening ;  I  am  going 
out  to  converse  about  business.  If  I  come  back  before  eleven,  I 
shall  write  you  a  few  lines  more. 
"  I  come  back  ;  npthing  is  changed.     I  have  signed  the  celebrated 


BEAII3IAKCH.VIS'    SEGUEDIIXAS.  97 

agreement  which  entitles  me  to  treat  in  my  own  name  with  the  Mar- 
quis D'Esquiiace,  Minister  of  War  and  Finance.  Every  one  in  Mad- 
rid is  speaking  of  the  affair.  I  am  complimented  upon  it  as  if  it  were 
a  settled  thing.  I,  who  know  it  is  not  yet  terminated,  hold  my  tongue 
for  the  present. 

"  Good-night,  dear  father ;  believe  me,  you  must  be  astonished  at 
nothing ;  neither  at  my  success,  nor  at  the  contrary,  if  it  happens  to 
me.  Thepe  are  altogether  ten  reasons  in  my  favor,  and  a  hundred 
against  me.  As  to  my  age,  I  have  just  reached  a  point  at  which  the 
vigor  of  tlie  body,  united  with  that  of  the  mind,  constitute  the  prime 
of  life.  I  shall  soon  be  thirty-three.  I  was  in  a  shop-window  at 
twenty-four.  I  have  made  up  my  mind  that  the  twenty  succeeding 
years,  which  will  bring  me  to  my  forty-fifth  year,  shall,  after  my  long 
labors,  produce  that  pleasant  tranquillity  which  I  think  can  only  be 
appreciated  when  looked  upon  as  a  reward  for  the  troubles  of  youth. 
In  the  mean  while,  I  laugh ;  my  inexhaustible  good-humor  does  not 
leave  me  for  a  moment.  I  have  been  to  some  delightful  suppers 
here.  I  might  send  you  some  verses,  composed  by  your  servant,  on 
Spanish  seguedillas,  which  are  very  pretty  vaudevilles,  the  words, 
however,  of  which  are  generally  worthless.  The  people  say  here, 
as  in  Italy,  the  words  are  nothing,  the  music  is  every  thing. 

"  I  got  in  a  passion  when  I  heard  such  an  absurdity.  I  chose  the 
most  popular  air,  a  soft,  touching,  charming  melody,  and  wrote  words 
to  it  in  an  analogous  strain.  When  they  were  heard,  my  opinion  was 
admitted  to  be  the  correct  one,  and  I  was  overwhelmed  with  requests 
for  words.  But  one  moment,  gentlemen ;  I  must  not  let  the  amuse- 
ments of  the  evening  interfere  with  the  work  of  the  morning.  Ac- 
cordingly, I  continue  to  write  and  think  about  business  all  day,  and  in 
the  evening  give  myself  up  to  the  pleasures  of  a  society  equally  il- 
lustrious and  well  chosen My  last  seguedilla  has  been 

exceedingly  fortunate,  and  is  in  the  hands  of  every  one  who  speaks 
French  at  Madrid.  In  truth,  I  laugh  on  my  pillow  when  1  think  how 
strangely  the  affairs  of  this  world  are  linked  together,  by  what  nu- 
merous and  always  out-of-the-way  roads  fortune  is  attained,  and  how, 
above  all,  the  mind  which  is  superior  to  circumstances  can  always 
find  pleasure  for  itself  in  the  midst  of  these  whirlpools  of  business 
affairs,  pleasures,  conflicting  interests,  sorrows,  and  hopes,  which 
meet,  clash,  and  fall  powerless  before  it.  .  .  . 

"  My  dear  Boisgarnier,  this  pretty  seguedilla,  and  the  accompani- 
ment for  the  guitar,  which  I  hav«  composed  (in  a  country  where  ev- 
ery one  plays  it,  and  yet  can  not  accompany  my  seguedilla  like  my- 
self, who,  out  of  compliment  to  the  country,  throw  off  something,  from 
time  to  time,  for  their  favorite  instrument),  you  would  sing  away  at 
it,  until  at  last,  perhaps,  yoii  would  render  it  perfectly.     You  shall 

E 


98  BEAUMARCHAIS  AND  HIS  TQIES. 

have  the  air,  then,  and  the  accompaniment  I  promise  you,  if  I  have 
a  moment  to  spare  between  now  and  the  next  post.  But  what 
should  you  say  of  me  if  I  were  to  take  it  to  you  myself?  Indeed,  I 
am  very  near  my  departure  :  a  word  from  the  minister  may  start  me 
off  before  the  next  fortnight. 

"  Good-night,  my  dear  father ;  it  is  half-past  eleven.  I  am  going 
to  take  some  sirop  de  capillaire,  for  daring  the  last  three  days  I  have 
had  a  frightful  cold  in  the  head ;  but  I  WTap  myself  up  in  my  Spanish 
cloak,  with  a  good  large  hat,  turned  down  over  my  forehead,  which 
they  call  here  being  en  capa  y  sombrero  ;  when  a  man,  throwing  his 
cloak  over  his  shoulder,  conceals  part  of  his  face,  they  call  that  be- 
ing embassado.  I  add  this  to  my  other  precautions,  and,  in  a  car- 
riage, carefully  closed,  go  off  to  my  business.  I  hope  you  continue 
to  enjoy  good  health.  In  reading  over  this  letter,  which  I  send 
scribbled  as  it  is,  I  have  been  obliged  to  make  twenty  erasures,  to 
give  it  some  sort  of  continuity.  This  will  cure  you  of  reading  my 
letters  to  other  persons,  or  making  copies  of  them." 

Beaumarchais'  writing,  indeed,  exhibits  all  the  rapidity  of 
thought  in  this  long  letter,  in  which  he  passes  from  one  snb- 
jeet  to  another  with  the  most  wonderful  versatility — ^in  one 
place  calculations,  and  the  other  philosophical  reflections,  else- 
where sincerity  and  enthusiasm  ;  such  is  this  Protean  man. 

The  following  is  another  unpublished  letter  of  his,  in  which 
he  represents  himself  in  the  drawing-room  of  the  Russian  em- 
bassador at  Madrid,  at  a  card-table,  which  is  so  spirited  and 
lively  that  I  have  determined  to  give  it  entire.  It  is  addressed 
to  his  sister  Julie.  Here  we  have  Beaumarchais  in  another 
aspect. 

"Madrid,  Feb.  11,1765. 

"  You  will  remember,  dear  Julie,  that  I  promised  you,  in  one  of 
my  last  letters,  the  details  of  the  persecution  directed  against  me  by 
the  Russian  embassador,  which  I  have  put  a  stop  to,  as  I  ought ;  here 
they  are ;  they  will  give  you  an  idea  of  my  life  at  Madrid — that  is  to 
say,  of  my  evenings — for  I  give  up  my  entire  day  to  business. 

"  For  some  time,  the  Count  of  Buturlin,  the  embassador  in  ques- 
tion, who  is  son  of  the  Grand-marshal  of  Russia,  had  been  receiving 
me  at  his  house  with  a  predilection  which  caused  it  to  be  said  that 
he  and  the  very  pretty  embassadress  were  in  love  with  me.  In  the 
evening  they  had  cards  or  music,  and  supper,  on  which  occasions  I 
was  the  soul  of  the  entertainment.  The  party  was  increased  by  all 
the  embassadors,  who,  before  this  time,  had  not  seen  much  of  one 
another.     Since  the  return  of  the  court  to  this  town,  their  suppers 


BEAUMABCHAIS  AT  THE  CAED-TABLE.  99 

had  been  charming,  they  said,  because  I  was  present  at  them ;  I  had 
one  evening  won  at  brelan,  although  we  were  not  playing  high,  500 
livres  from  the  count,  and  1500  from  the  countess ;  from  that  time 
we  have  played  no  more  at  brelan ;  and  I  was  asked  to  play  at  faro, 
which  nothing  in  the  world  would  induce  me  to  do.  I  had  not  been 
paid  my  2000  livres,  but  said  nothing  about  it — every  one  knew  of 
it — it  was  considered  that  I  was  behaving  like  an  embassador,  and 
the  count  like  a  somewhat  mean  private  individual.  At  last,  one 
evening,  annoyed  that  the  count,  although  he  had  just  gained  100 
louis,  did  not  speak  of  what  he  owed  me,  I  said  aloud,  '  If  the  count 
will  lend  me  some  gold,  1  will  commit  an  act  of  folly,  and  play  you 
at  faro.'  He  could  not  avoid  doing  so,  and  passed  me  the  100  louis 
which  he  had  just  gained.  I  held  the  bank,  but  in  an  hour  my  poor 
bank  was  broken ;  the  Duke  of  San -Bias  gained  fifty  louis  of  me  ; 
the  English  embassador  fifteen ;  the  Russian  twenty,  &c.  I  was  al- 
most in  the  same  position  as  if  I  had  won  nothing '.  I  got  up  with  a 
laugh  and  said, '  My  dear  count,  we  are  quits !'  '  Yes,'  said  he, '  but 
you  will  not  say  in  future  that  you  do  not  play  at  faro,  and  we  hope 
you  will  henceforth  join  the  rest  of  the  company.'  '  Willingly,  if 
there  are  only  a  few  louis  to  stake ;  but  not  to  hold  banks  of  a  hund- 
red.' '  That  one,'  said  he,  '  has  not  lost  you  much.'  '  That  is  all 
that  could  be  said,'  I  replied,  '  if  my  debt  had  been  a  bad  one ;'  here- 
upon the  countess  interrupted  the  conversation.  Madame  de  la  C* 
rose  and  told  me  to  give  her  my  arm  :  I  left.  There  were  sulks  for 
two  days ;  I  went,  nevertheless,  to  the  Russian  embassy  as  usual, 
and  in  order  to  seem  not  to  have  played  a  desperate  game,  lost  every 
evening  about  ten  or  twelve  louis,  or  perhaps  won  some  of  my  stakes. 
One  evening,  when  I  had  gained  twenty  louis  on  a  bank  of  200,  I 
got  up,  and,  before  going  away,  put  all  my  winnings  on  two  cards, 
both  of  which  gained ;  I  went  on  ;  every  thing  succeeded ;  I  broke 
the  bank,  which  was  held  by  the  Marquis  de  Carrasola ;  the  Chev- 
alier de  Guzman  put  a  hundred  four-louis  pieces  on  the  table,  and 
said,  '  Gentlemen,  do  not  go  away ;  I  wager  that  M.  de  Beaumar- 
chais  will  break  this  new  bank  also.'  Having  gained  200  louis,  I 
considered  myself  obliged  to  reply  to  the  invitation.  I  began  play- 
ing ;  every  one  stopped,  as  there  was  no  one  else  who  played  so  high. 
Putting  fifty  louis  on  one  side,  and  intending  to  let  the  rest  be  won 
back,  so  that  I  might  never  have  to  play  again,  I  put  ten  louis  on  each 
card;  when  the  card  won,  I  doubled.  To  be  short,  in  two  hours  I 
had  a  hundred  four-louis  pieces.  I  rose,  ancj  went  off  to  bed  with 
my  five  hundred  louis,  of  which  I  lost  150  the  following  day.  Mad- 
ame de  C.  said  that  I  had  played  very  generously  in  allowing  such 

*  This  is  the  lady  who  sent  the  somewhat  flippant  message  to  old  M. 
Caron,  of  which  we  have  already  spoken. 


100  BEAUMARCIIAJS  AND' HIS  TIMES. 

a  large  sum  to  be  won  back  from  me,  and  that  I  could  keep  the  rest. 
1  was  going  away,  when  the  Russian  embassador,  addressing  me 
personally,  sajd,  '  Will  you  no  longer  try  your  strength  with  me  V 
'  1  have  lost  a  great  deal  tliis  evening,'  I  replied.  '  But,'  he  replied 
quickly,  '  you  gained  a  great  deal  more  yesterday.'  '  M.  le  Comte,' 
I  said, '  you  know  whether  I  care  about  the  money  I  win  at  cards. 
I  played  in  spite  of  myself;  I  have  gained  in  the  face  of  reason,  and 
you  only  press  me  in  this  way,  because  you  know  very  well  that  I 
play  without  rules,  and  at  a  great  disadvantage.'  '  Parbleu  I'  he  said ; 
'  no  one  can  play  better  than  a  man  who  wins,  and  a  great  deal  of 
this  money  is  mine.'  '  Well,  M.  le  Comte,  how  much  did  you  lose?' 
'  One  hundred  and  fifty  louis,'  he  said.  '  I  shall  lose,  then,'  1  replied, 
'  300  louis  this  evening ;  for,  to  the  150  which  I  have  just  given  back 
to  the  bank,  I  will  put  150  more  against  you,  if  you  wish  to  play,  so 
that  all  the  advantage  may  be  on  your  side  ;  but  I  must  stake  twenty- 
five  louis  every  time.'  He  took  the  cards,  for  this  was  just  what  he 
wanted.  My  luck  continued  ;  I  won  200  louis,  after  which  I  rose 
and  said,  '  It  would  be  folly  on  my  part  to  play  any  longer  :  I  should 
ruin  you,  sir ;  another  day,  luck  may  be  against  me,  and  you  will  get 
your  money  back.'  'What,  sir,  you  are  going?  Par  dieu !  Win 
600  louis  of  me,  or  let  me  win  my  money  back.'  '  No,  M.  le  Comte, 
another  time  ;  it  is  four  in  the  morning  :  a  man  may  reasonably  go  to 
bed.'  '  But,  sir,  you  were  more  polite  with  the  Chevalier  de  Guz- 
man.' '  And,  accordingly,'  I  replied, '  he  lost  his  500  louis.  I  am 
quite  overcome  by  sleep.  Will  you  have  your  200  louis  on  a  stake 
at  trente  et  quarantef  '  No,' he  said,  'at  faro.'  'Gentlemen,  I 
wish  you  good-night.'  The  countess,  his  wife,  rather  vexed  at  her 
husband's  loss,  let  the  observation  fall  that  I  was  '  more  fortunate 
than  polite.'  I  looked  at  her  fixedly,  and  said,  '  Madame  I'Ambas- 
sadrice,  you  forget  that,  a  week  ago,  you  paid  me  a  compliment  of 
quite  an  opposite  nature.'  She  blushed.  I  added  nothing,  and  left. 
It  was  the  fact  that  the  week  previously,  when  supping  at  Lord 
Rochford's,  she  had  begged  me,  with  clasped  hands,  to  lend  her 
thirty  louis,  to  pay  her  losses  with ;  and  that  I  did  so  immediately, 
although  I  had  lost,  and  remembered  the  affair  of  the  brelan. 

"  The  count,  then,  owes  me  200  louis,  and  the  countess  30,  without 
reckoning  the  other  350  louis  I  had  won ;  I  swear  my  great  oath  not 
to  play  any  more.  I  shall  look  on  at  the  game  for  a  few  days  longer, 
without  mixing  myself  up  in  the  affairs  of  great  people.  The  em- 
bassador looks  at  me  like  a  dog,  and  does  not  speak  to  me  ;  his  wife 
appears  embarrassed ;  not  a  word  is  said  about  payment,  not  an  ex- 
cuse is  made  for  the  delay.     I  complained  to  Madame  de  la  C , 

who  the  same  evening  took  the  embassador's  physician  on  one  side, 
and  then  made  a  terrible  attack  upon  his  master,  declaring  to  him 


BEAUMABCHAIS   AT   THE   CAKB-TABLE.  101 

that  if  he  did  not  behave  differently  toward  me  she  would  reproach 
him  with  it;  and,  finally,  that  he  was  an  ill-bred,  impertinent  man. 

"  As  my  manner  was  always  the  same  toward  both  husband  and 
wife,  every  one  was  on  my  side.     The  next  day  the  doctor  brought 

me  200  louis  to  the  house  of  Madame  de  la  C ,  where  1  was  dining. 

She  was  very  much  offended,  and  sent  word  to  the  embassador  that 
she  would  see  him  in  the  evening,  and  give  him  the  lesson  he  de- 
served ;  that  he  ought  to  have  brought  the  money  to  my  own  house, 
and  to  have  apologized  for  his  sulkiness  and  delay.  I  thought  it  best 
to  take  the  200  louis,  for  which  the  doctor  asked  me  to  give  him  a 
receipt.  I  laughed  in  his  face,  and  wrote  the  embassador  a  letter, 
which  was  polite,  but  calculated  to  make  him  ashamed  of  himself. 
Two  hours  afterward  the  countess  came  to  the  house  of  Madame  de 

la  C .     I  was  no  longer  there.     A  grand  explanation  ensued.    I 

did  not  set  foot  in  the  Russian  embassy  for  a  week.  At  last  the  count- 
ess sent  the  physician  to  me,  to  beg  me  to  go  and  see  her,  and  to  com- 
plain of  my  absence.  I  replied  that,  in  spite  of  the  great  privation  I 
felt  in  no  longer  enjoying  her  society,  1  thought  I  ought  not  to  make 
my  appearance  in  a  house  where  I  had  such  good  reason  to  be  offend- 
ed with  the  master. 

"  Madame  de  la  C was  appealed  to ;  the  count  was  said  to  be 

sorry  and  ashamed  of  his  conduct ;  I  keep  to  the  etiquette  of  the 
matter,  and  finally  the  embassador  sent  the  Prince  of  Mezersky  to 
me,  to  beg  I  would  do  him  the  honor  to  go  in  the  evening  to  a  con- 
cert and  supper  at  his  house.  In  the  afternoon  the  count  called  to 
ask  me  if  I  wished  to  see  the  new  piece  in  his  box,  saying  that  he 
was  waiting  to  take  me  with  him.  I  thought  it  better  the  interview 
should  take  place  at  his  house,  and  replied  that  I  was  writing,  but 
that  I  would  have  the  honor  to  see  him  in  the  evening,  according  to 
his  invitation.  I  arrived  rather  late  on  purpose,  when  the  concert 
had  commenced,  and  all  the  guests  were  present.  I  was  surprised 
to  find  that  I,  who  was  previously  looked  upon  as  one  of  the  family, 
and  never  announced,  was  now  preceded  by  two  pages,  who  ushered 
me  into  the  concert-room  with  great  ceremony.  The  countess  was 
at  the  harpsichord.  She  advanced  toward  me,  and  said,  as  she  pre- 
sented the  count  to  me,  that  friends  ought  never  to  quarrel  about  a 
misunderstanding,  and  that  they  both  hoped  I  would  remain  a  friend 
of  theirs :  immediately  afterward  she  added — by  way  of  sealing  the 
reconciliation — M.  de  Beaumarchais,  I  have  a  desire  to  play  the  part 
oi  Annette ;  I  hope  you  will  accept  that  of  Lubin.  The  Swedish 
envoy  will  be  the  Lord ;  Prince  Mezersky  the  Bailiff;*  and  we  have 
already  begun  the  rehearsals.     It  was  impossible  for  me  to  avoid  ac- 

*  The  principal  characters  in  Rousseau's  "Devin  du  Village." 


102  BEAtlMARCHAIS  AND   HIS  TIMES. 

cepting  this  kind  offer.  I  went  to  the  harpsichord  at  once,  the  or- 
chestra began,  and  I  sang  the  music  of  Lubin.  Each  went  through 
as  much  as  he  knew  of  his  part,  after  which  we  had  a  grand  concert 
and  a  grand  supper  :  good-humor  was  restored.  It  is  understood  that 
I  am  to  hear  no  more  about  card-playing,  and  that  we  are  to  amuse 
ourselves  with  pleasures  which  are  more  lively  and  will  not  tend  to 
such  grave  results.  The  countess,  quite  delighted,  sent  a  page  to 
rae  during  dessert  with  a  note  containing  four  lines  in  my  praise,  badly 
versified,  it  is  true,  but  very  flattering.  She  had  composed  them 
that  very  day.    Here  they  are  : 

'  O  toi  k  qui  la  nature  a  donne  pour  partage 
Le  talent  de  charmer  avec  Tesprit  du  sage, 
Si  Orphee,  comme  toi,  eUt  eu  des  sons  si  flatteurs, 
Pluton  sans  condition  aurait  fait  son  bonheur.'* 

"  This  was  no  ordinary  honor,  I  assure  you.  I  replied  to  the  com- 
pliment. The  intimacy  is  greater  than  ever  ;  we  have  balls,  concerts, 
but  no  more  card-playing,  and  I  have  14,500  livres  left.  I  have  since 
written  French  words  to  a  new  Spanish  seguedilla.  There  are  200 
copies  of  it ;  people  are  tearing  it  from  one  another's  hands.  I  must 
take  care  of  it  for  you,  with  the  music  of  the  one  I  sent  to  your  father. 
Good-night.  I  have  fulfilled  my  promise  as  well  as  I  could.  You 
know  as  much  now  about  the  affair  of  the  cards  as  myself.  I  shall 
write  on  Wednesday  to  my  Pauline  and  her  aunt.  In  spite  of  the 
preparations  of  Annette,  I  am  afraid  Lubin  will  be  taken  off  before 
the  piece  is  played.     I  may  have  to  go  in  ten  days." 

As  conceit  was  the  besetting  sin  of  Beaumarchais,  who  com- 
pares himself  elsewhere  to  Alcibiades,  one  is  tempted  to  ask 
whether  he  did  not  exaggerate  his  familiarity  with  these  em- 
bassadors; but  among  the  papers  relating  to  Spanish  affairs 
are  found  letters  from  the  embassador  of  England,  Lord  Roch- 
ford,  which  prove  that  the  young  and  brilliant  Frenchman 
was  really  the  most  popular  man  of  the  diplomatic  corps  in 
Madrid.  His  Parisian  liveliness  put  all  this  somewhat  formal 
world  in  movement ;  Lord  Eochford  is  fiiU  of  him ;  goes  to 
the  Prado  with  him ;  sups  with  him  ;  sings  duets  with  him ; 
and  becomes  quite  jovial  for  an  English  diplomatist.  It  was 
doubtless  the  card-playing  scene  which  we  have  given  that 

*  Thou  on  whom  bounteous  nature  has  bestowed 

The  art  of  pleasing,  with  the  sage's  mind, 
If  Orpheus  had  produced  such  sounds  as  thine, 
Pluto,  without  conditions,  would  have  freed  him. 


BEAUMARCUAIS    Aia>    HIS   RELATIVES.  103 

formed  the  foundation  for  the  calumnies  uttered  at  a  later 
period,  during  the  Goezman  lawsuits.  In  the  anonymous 
letter  which  Beaumarchais  publishes  himself,  and  in  which  he 
is  spoken  of  as  an  unfair  player,  not  only  did  he  play  fairly, 
but  I  see,  from  all  his  letters,  that  he  did  not  like  play,  and 
only  consented  to  join  in  it  under  protest.  At  the  period 
when  he  was  living  in  great  state  in  Paris,  although  his  visit- 
ors played,  he  never  played  himselfl  In  the  midst  of  all  these 
commercial  speculations  and  aristocratic  pleasures,  the  future 
author  of  the  ''  Barber  of  Seville"  appears  to  have  been  always 
occupied  with  the  affairs  of  his  humble  family :  at  one  time 
displaying  much  talent  in  forcing  two  or  three  ladies  of  noble 
family  who  were  at  Madrid  to  pay  long-standing  accounts  of 
his  fatlier's  for  watches  and  jewels  without  compromising  his 
own  position;  at  another  time  taking  with  fraternal  good 
nature  an  active  part  in  all  the  little  incidents  of  the  lives  of 
his  sisters  in  Paris ;  or,  again,  quitting  the  saloons  of  the  court 
for  the  modest  residence  of  his  sisters  at  Madrid. 

"  I  saw  Drouillet,"*  he  writes  to  his  father,  "  on  my  arrival ;  he 
and  his  wife  have  paid  me  a  visit ;  but  I  do  not  cultivate  their  soci- 
et)',  although  Drouillet  is  an  estimable  man,  and  as  honest  as  the  late 
Pichon,  with  a  capital  house  at  Madrid.  The  reason  for  my  keeping 
away  from  them  is  the  ridiculous  airs  and  manners  of  his  wife,  who, 
because  she  has  a  few  crowns  more  than  your  daughters,  spoke  of 
them  as  '  mesdemoiselles'  before  me,  for  which  I  had  the  honor  to 
take  her  up.  She  was  very  desirous  of  getting  me  to  her  house,  by 
all  the  attentions  and  invitations  possible,  but  said  nothing  about  my 
sisters,  which  made  me  say,  in  reply  to  all  her  politeness,  that  I  had 
too  short  a  time  to  remain  at  Madrid  not  to  give  up  all  my  leisure  to 
my  family.  It  is  every  where  the  same,  and  the  ridiculous  is  of  no 
country.  We  have  here  what  is  called  the  great  world  and  little 
world  of  France.  My  sisters,  too  well  educated  to  belong  to  the  lit- 
tle world,  are  not  considered  sufficiently  rich  for  the  great  one.  Ac- 
cordingly, the  visits  of  la  Drouillet  were  for  me  alone ;  upon  this 
your  son  took  the  liberty  of  putting  her  in  her  proper  place,  which 
makes  lier  say  that  I  am  malicious.f  You  know,  my  dear  father, 
whether  that  is  the  case,  and  whether  there  is  any  malice  in  looking 
at  things  as  they  really  exist,  and  saying  what  I  think  of  them." 

The  eldest  son  of  Madame  Guilbert  was  at  school  in  Paris; 

*  A  French  banker  residing  at  Madrid. 

t  The  same  accusation  was  afterward  made  bj  Madame  Goezman. 


104  BEAUMARCHAIS  AND   HIS  TIMES. 

the  child  died ;  Beaumarchais,  intrusted  by  his  father  to  pre- 
pare his  sister  and  brother-in-law  for  this  sad  news,  replied  by 
the  following  lettei',  which  is  evidently,  it  appears  to  me,  the 
production  of  a  man  who  is  naturally  good  and  full  of  delicate 
kindness. 

"  I  have  received  your  thick  and  mournful  packet,  which  I  have 
not  yet  entirely  acted  upon.  I  reserve  this  penance  for  my  poor 
friends  until  their  Lent.  They  have  one  son  remaining,  who  is  a 
very  pretty  child,  as  intelligent  as  possible,  and  who  devours  every 
thing  which  is  given  him  to  learn.  The  only  preparation  I  have 
made  for  imparting  the  sad  news  which  I  have  to  announce  to  them 
has  consisted  in  caressing  Eugenio  very  much  since  the  reception 
of  your  letter,  for  which  they  appear  to  be  very  grateful.  I  gave 
him  a  louis  for  the  Carnival,  and  I  am  having  a  very  handsome  hus- 
sar's dress  made  for  him.  I  spoke  to  them  of  his  brother,  and  point- 
ed out  to  them  the  difference  which  existed  between  their  capabil- 
ities and  talents,  and  from  one  point  to  another  at  last  brought  them 
to  confess  the  difficulty  they  felt  about  putting  the  elder  elsewhere 
than  in  the  king's  guards,  while  the  latter  is  intended  for  the  engi- 
neers. I  think  I  have  now  prepared  them  sufficiently,  and  that  at  the 
beginning  of  Lent  I  can  tell  them  the  news  without  any  farther  hesi- 
tation."* 

It  appears  that  at  this  period  he  was  already  in  correspond- 
ence with  Voltaire,  upon  what  subject  I  can  not  say.  "  I 
have  received  ]M.  de  Voltaire's  letter,"  he  writes  to  his  father 
from  Madrid ;  "  he  compliments  me,  playfully,  on  my  thirty- 
two  teeth,  my  lively  philosophy,  and  my  age.f  His  letter  is 
very  kind  ;  but  my  letter  made  this  answer  so  necessary,  that 
I  think  I  should  have  written  it  myself.  He  desires  some  de- 
tails with  regard  to  the  country  in  which  I  am ;  but  my  best 

*  We  may  also  quote  a  portion  of  Beaumarchais'  private  letter  to  his 
father,  in  which  he  exhibits  a  taste  for  peaceful  and  moderate  pleasures, 
which  is  not  generally  attributed  to  him :  "  It  would  be  a  delightful 
thing  for  me  to  look  forward  to,  from  time  to  time,  if  I  could  think  I 
was  about  to  pass  a  month  or  two  with  persons  as  happy  as  they  are 
dear  to  me.  "What  a  pleasure,  at  the  end  of  all  my  labors,  to  bury  tho 
rest  of  my  existence  in  the  midst  of  my  relations  and  friends,  all  de- 
lighted with  one  another,  and  all  kno^ving  the  valine  of  comfort,  with- 
out display,  and  of  what  is  called  the  happy  medimn !" 

t  I  could  not  find  this  letter,  dated  1 764,  in  Voltaire's  Correspond- 
ence, as  afterward  edited  by  Beaumarchais.    He  had  probably  lost  it. 


BEAUMARCUAIS   ON   TUB  SPANISH   DRAMA.  105 

answer  will  be  that  which  M.  de  Caro  made  yesterday  to  the 
Marchioness  d'Arissa  at  M.  de  Grimaldi's.  She  had  asked 
him  what  he  thought  of  Spain.  '  Madam,'  replied  he,  '  wait 
until  I  have  left  it  for  my  answer.  I  am  too  sincere  and  too 
polite  to  give  it  at  the  house  of  one  of  the  king's  ministers.' " 
Sometimes  bad  news  reached  Beaumarchais  from  France.  Ho 
experienced  losses ;  his  plans  at  Madrid  were  not  succeeding. 
He  then  writes  as  follows : 

"  I  strengthen  myself  by  work  against  calamity.  As  soon  as  I 
quit  the  oar,  misfortxmes  and  losses  overwhelm  me  on  all  sides.  The 
gayety  of  my  disposition,  and,  1  dare  to  add,  while  rendering  thanks 
to  Providence,  the  force  of  my  mind,  together  with  my  frequent  re- 
verses, all  combine  to  prevent  me  succumbing.  When  I  have  torn 
away  an  ounce  of  flesh  from  my  lips  on  the  past,  I  work  seriously  at 
the  present,  and  can  not  help  smiling  at  the  future.  I  have  already  lost 
three  or  four  times  more  than  I  possess  in  the  world  ;  unworthy  en- 
emies have  intercepted  my  path.  Poor  Pichon  is  ruining  me  at  St. 
Domingo  ;  but  here  I  am,  nevertheless,  shaking  my  square  head,  and 
recommencing  cheerfully  the  work  of  the  Danaides." 

We  should  never  finish  if  we  tried  to  study  every  shade  of 
Beaumarchais'  mind  and  disposition  in  this  correspondence  of 
his  youth.  I  have  looked  through  it  with  curiosity  for  somo 
traces  of  his  opinion  on  the  Spanish  drama.  It  is  rather  as- 
tonishing to  find  that  on  this  point  he  confined  himself  to  a 
few  unimportant  observations.  He  directs  his  attention  more 
to  manners  and  customs  than  to  the  stage.  All  that  he  says 
about  it  may  be  said  to  be  limited  to  a  passage  in  a  letter  to 
the  Duke  de  la  Valliere,  dated  December  24th,  1764,  in  which 
Beaumarchais,  after  going  into  long  details  on  the  subject  of 
the  administration,  politics,  and  manners  of  Spain,  expresses 
himself  thus : 

"  The  Spanish  theatre  is  at  least  two  centuries  younger  than  ours ; 
both  as  regards  decency  and  the  plays  themselves,  they  may  figure 
with  propriety  by  the  side  of  those  of  Hardy  and  his  contemporaries. 
Their  music,  on  the  other  hand,  may  be  ranked  immediately  after  the 
beautiful  Italian  music,  and  before  our  own.  The  warmth  and  gay- 
ety of  the  interludes,  all  in  music,  with  which  they  divide  the  weari- 
some acts  of  their  insipid  dramas,  very  often  compensates  for  the 
enmii  which  is  produced  by  listening  to  them.  They  are  called 
tonadtllas  ox  saynetes.     Dancing  is  absolutely  unknown  here.     I 

E  2 


106  BEAUMARCHAIS   AND   HIS  TIMES. 

speak  of  figure  dancing,  for  I  can  not  honor  with  this  name  the  gro- 
tesque and  often  indecent  movements  of  the  Moorish  dances,  and 
those  of  Grenada,  which  constitute  the  delight  of  the  people." 

This  extract  would  seem  to  prove  that  Beaumarchais  has  no 
high  opinion  of  the  Spanish  theatre.  The  time  has  Hot  yet 
arrived  for  us  to  examine  how  much  he  derived  from  it.  It  is 
evident  that  he  produced  an  entire  alteration  in  the  types 
which  he  borrowed  from  it.  But,  on  the  other  hand,  it  can 
be  seen,  even  from  this  letter,  that  the  general  action  of  the 
Spanish  comedy,  above  all,  the  liveliness  of  the  interludes  and 
saynetes,  produced  a  marked  impression  upon  him.  When  he 
left  Spain,  after  a  year's  residence  there,  he  had  failed  in  his 
commercial  speculations,  but  he  came  back  richer  than  he 
was  himself  aware,  for  he  brought  with  him  the  first  linea- 
ments of  those  strongly-marked  and  original  characters,  Figa- 
ro, Kosina,  Almaviva,  Bartholo,  and  Basile,  who  were  one  day 
to  be  the  glory  of  his  name. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

Beaumarchais  on  his  Return  from  Spain. — ^An  Episode  in  his  Private 
Life. — His  Love-affair  with  Pauline. — Beaumarchais'  Love-letters. — 
Figaro,  Pauline's  Friend. 

Before  following  Beaumarchais  in  his  literary  career,  which 
we  shall  see  him  enter  upon  soon — rather  late  in  life,  in  fact 
in  his  thirty-sixth  year — we  must  first  of  all  direct  our  atten- 
tion to  a  love-affair  in  which  he  was  engaged,  not  on  another 
person's  behalf  (as  in  the  Clavijo  episode),  but  on  his  own  ac- 
count. The  affair  had  been  going  on  for  some  years,  and  was 
only  brought  to  a  termination  about  the  period  of  his  life  at 
which  we  have  arrived. 

In  Beaumarchais'  letter  to  his  sister  Julie,  which  we  have 
just  quoted,  the  following  sentence  occurs  :  "  I  shall  vmte  on 
Wednesday  to  my  Pauline  and  her  aunt."  In  other  letters, 
which  were  written  some  months  later,  he  speaks  of  selling  all 
his  appointments  in  France,  and  going  to  settle  in  St.  Do- 
mingo "with  Pauline"  Finally,  in  the  weakest,  but,  perhaps, 
the  most  correctly  written  of  his  three  dramas,  "The  Two 


BEAUMARCUAIS   IN    LOVE.  107 

F'riends,"  be  represents,  with  much  success  a  young  person  of 
amiability  and  distinction,  to  whom  he  gives  the  name  of  Pau- 
line, and  introduces  several  family  scenes  which  seem  to  have 
been  copied  from  nature. 

There  existed,  then,  a  Pauline,  who  exercised  a  certain  in- 
fluence over  his  heart :  I  say  a  ceriain  influence,  for  I  must  con- 
fess with  regret  that  in  what  I  have  seen  of  Beaumarchais' 
love-letters,  ^vritten  at  different  periods,  I  have  not  found  any 
proof  of  his  ever  having  been  deeply  in  love.  Indeed,  this  hap- 
piness or  misfortune  is  not  common,  and  Rochefoucauld  was 
right  when  he  said,  "  It  is  with  love  as  with  the  apparition 
of  spirits :  every  one  speaks  of  them,  but  few  have  seen  them ; 
love  lends  its  name  to  an  infinite  number  of  affairs  which  are 
attributed  to  it,  and  with  which  it  has  no  more  concern  than 
the  doge  has  with  what  takes  place  in  Venice."  Beaumar- 
chais had  a  great  many  of  these  affairs,  of  which  La  Rochefou- 
cauld speaks  ;  but  if  women  have  often  been  the  amusement 
of  his  life,  they  have  never  been  either  its  occupation,  its  in- 
spiration, or  its  torment.  "  My  recreation,  after  the  business 
of  the  day,"  he  writes  somewhere,  "  consists  in  the  '  Belles 
Lettres,'  beautiful  music,  and  sometimes  in  the  society  of  beau- 
tiful women."  The  word  sometimes  is  inserted  from  modesty. 
On  this  point,  as  in  many  others,  Beaumarchais  was  a  child 
of  his  century  ;  he  has  many  amiable  qualities,  but  in  love  he 
is  superficial,  more  sensual  than  sentimental,  and  altogether 
very  much  of  a  pagan  in  his  attachments,  and  even,  as  a  pa- 
gan, not  susceptible  of  any  very  strong  passion.  We  must 
not  expect  from  him,  then,  either  the  jealous  transport  of  an 
Othello,  nor  the  hidden  torment  of  Moliere,  nor  the  ecstasy 
of  Rousseau  at  Eaubonne,  in  the  neighborhood  of  Madame 
d'Houdetot,  nor  that  ardent  thirst  for  the  unchangeable  and 
infinite  in  love  which  inspired  the  author  of  the  "  Meditations" 
with  the  Lake.*  Besides,  Beaumarchais'  affair  was  a  little 
romance  in  the  approved  style,  which  was  to  terminate  with 
a  marriage :  it  was  that,  perhaps,  which  cooled  Beaumarchais' 
ardor,  and  which,  while  it  held  his  habitually  free  pen  some- 
what in  check,  at  the  same  time  makes  his  style  appear  some- 
what commonplace,  when  we  reflect  that  he  is  attempting  to 

*  Lamartinc. 


108  BEAU^AKCHAIS  AKD  HIS   TIMES. 

convey  to  a  young  girl  the  expression  of  his  candid  and  sincere 
affection.  Accordingly,  Pauline's  letters  are  much  more  in- 
teresting than  his.  In  the  mean  while,  it  will  be  seen  that  his 
part  in  the  romance  is  a  curious  and  rather  a  novel  one  for 
him,  inasmuch  as  he  at  last  claims  to  be  regarded  as  a  victim, 
and  really  is  a  victim  in  one  way,  whUe  it  only  requires  a  cer- 
tain amount  of  confidence  in  his  statements  for  us  to  believe 
that  his  deception  had  driven  him  almost  to  madness.  He 
here  appears  as  the  antithesis  to  Clavijo ;  Pauhne  is  the  Cla- 
vijo,  or,  rather,  there  is  a  Clavijo  who  takes  Pauline  from  him. 
Let  us  endeavor  to  arrive  at  the  truth  of  this  matter  by  means 
of  a  somewhat  voluminous  packet  of  papers,  on  which  Beau- 
marchais  has  ■written  with  his  own  hand,  '■^Affair  of  Made- 
moiselle le  B ,  afterward  Madame  de  S ."    The  names 

are  written  in  fuU  length ;  but,  although  the  adventure  is  more 
than  a  century  old,  it  appears  to  me  better  to  confine  myself 
to  the  initials  only,  my  object  in  giving  this  detail  of  Beaumar- 
chais'  private  life  being  solely  that  of  studying  and  analyzing 
thoroughly  the  mind  and  character  of  a  man  who  may  be  taken 
as  a  fair  representative  of  the  ideas  and  character  of  his  epoch. 
And,  in  the  first  place,  let  us  thank  Heaven  that  there  reaUy 
was  an  affair  of  business,  that  is  to  say,  a  debt  in  connection 
with  this  episode  of  love ;  otherwise  it  would  have  met  with 
the  fate  of  other  episodes  of  the  same  nature  which  the  elder 
Gudin,  the  worthy  cashier  who  arranged  the  papers  of  Beau- 
marchais  after  his  death,  has  treated  with  sovereign  contempt 
— tearing  up  the  papers  relating  to  them  in  so  complete  a  man- 
ner that  all  my  efforts  to  replace  the  fragments  in  their  proper 
places  were  quite  in  vain.  In  the  case  of  the  Pauline  episode, 
Gudin  has  been  of  some  help  to  me.  Directly  there  appeared 
to  be  a  debt  in  connection  with  the  matter,  every  paper  bear- 
ing upon  the  subject  became  sacred,  and  it  is  only  in  the  char- 
acter of  "  proofs  in  writing"  that  some  very  affectionate  let- 
ters from  a  most  amiable  young  girl  have  been  suffered  to 
live  through  a  period  of  ninety-two  years,  classed,  numbered, 
and  docketed.  If  the  claim  has  now  expired,  the  letters  re- 
main, and  there  is  a  certain  pleasure  in  discovering  on  the  de- 
cayed paper,  in  all  their  life,  the  palpitations  of  a  heart  which 
has  long  ceased  to  beat,  but  which  had  once  its  moments  of 
youth  and  love. 


PAULIKE.  109 

Pauline  le  B was  a  young  Creole,  and  was  born  in 

the  island  of  St.  Domingo,  which,  as  the  reader  is  aware,  at 
that  time  belonged  to  France.  She  was  an  orphan,  and  had 
been  brought  up  in  Paris,  under  the  direction  of  her  aunt : 
she  possessed  an  estate  of  some  magnitude,  which  was  esti- 
mated at  two  million  francs,  but  which  was  much  encum- 
bered with  debts,  and  had  been  much  worked  and  much  ex- 
hausted by  the  trustees,  as  often  happens  to  the  estate  of  a 
minor,  above  all  when  the  estate  is  in  the  colonies ;  so  that, 
with  all  the  appearance  and  expectation  of  having  a  large  for- 
tune, Pauline  was  in  reality  poor  enough :  but  she  was  very 
pretty,  and  in  all  the  letters  in  which  she  is  mentioned  she  is 
always  called  the  beautiful,  or  the  chaivning  Pauline. 

In  one  of  these  letters,  her  gentle,  delicate,  childlike  appear-  - 
ance,  and  her  enchanting  voice  are  spoken  of:  it  has  been  al- 
ready seen,  from  one  of  old  M.  Caron's  letters,  that  she  was 
a  very  good  musician.  She  was  the  Pauline,  then,  of  "  The 
Two  Friends,"  "with,"  as  Melac  says,  "a  charming  face,  a 
flexible  and  sympathetic  voice,  and,  above  all,  fuU  of  soul." 

Mademoiselle  le  B 's  aunt  Avas  distantly  related  to  the 

Caron  family.  The  intimacy  between  the  two  families  ap- 
pears to  have  been  great,  as  far  back  as  1760.  Beaumarchais, 
who  lost  his  first  wife  when  he  was  about  twenty-eight  years 
of  age,  was,  as  the  reader  is  aware,  of  very  prepossessing  ap- 
pearance, and  to  his  natural  advantages  was  now  added  a  cer- 
tain eclat,  which  he  obtained  from  his  position  at  the  court : 
soon  afterward  he  bought  the  places  of  King's  Secretary  and 
Lieutenant-general  of  the  Preserves  ;  made  some  fortunate 
speculation  with  Du  Verney ;  installed  his  family,  as  I  have 
before  stated,  in  the  house  in  the  Rue  de  Conde,  where  be 
spent  all  the  time  which  was  left  him  by  his  occupations  at 
Versailles ;  worshiped  by  his  sisters,  and  paying  a  great  deal 
of  attention  to  their  friend  Pauline,  who  was  then  about  eight- 
een or  nineteen.  The  first  scene  of  "  The  Two  Friends," 
which  represents  Pauline  sitting  at  the  harpsichord,  playing 
a  sonata,  while  Melac,  standing  behind  her,  is  playing  the 
violin ;  the  playful,  affectionate  conversation  which  follows 
the  sonata — all  this  has  the  appearance  of  a  repiiniscence. 
Beaumarchais  not  only  made  a  point  of  trying  to  please  Pau- 


110  BEAUMAECHAIS   ANP   HIS   TIMES. 

line,  he  rendered  her  important  services:  he  endeavored  to 
penetrate  the  confused  state  of  her  resources,  and  to  get  her 
property  into  a  more  satisfactory  condition.  With  this  view 
he  obtained  an  introduction  from  the  princess  to  M.  de  Clugny, 
the  Governor  of  St.  Domingo,  and  altogether  behaved  like  a 
devoted  lover  and  a  sincere  friend. 

It  will  be  easily  understood  that  the  young  Creole  soon 
formed  a  strong  inclination  for  so  amiable  a  guardian.  The 
guardian,  on  his  side,  seemed  much  struck  with  the  charms 
of  his  pupil ;  nevertheless,  as  love  never  deprived  him  of  his 
reason,  before  making  up  his  mind  to  ask  for  Pauline's  hand, 
he  sent  one  of  his  own  relations  to  St.  Domingo  with  a  sum 
of  10,000  francs,  and  a  considerable  cargo  of  different  articles 
suitable  to  the  requirements  of  Pauline's  habitation.  This 
relation  had  also  a  special  commission  to  ascertain  the  exact 

state  of  Mademoiselle  B 's  fortune,  and  see  what  could 

best  be  done  with  her  property.  It  was  after  his  departure, 
in  1763,  that  the  correspondence  took  place  between  Pauline 
and  Beaumarchais,  from  which  we  are  about  to  make  some 
extracts.  To  understand  the  first  letter,  it  must  be  known 
that  Pauline,  who  had  been  brought  up  by  a  widow  aunt,  had 
an  uncle  in  Paris  who  was  a  widower,  and  who,  consequent- 
ly, was  not  her  aunt's  husband.  This  uncle  was  tolerably 
rich,  and  had  no  children.  Let  us  now  listen  to  Beaumar- 
chais in  love,  but  at  the  same  time  perfectly  prudent,  and  in- 
dulging in  a  number  of  periphrases  in  order  to  maintain  the 
alliance  between  love  and  prudence. 

"  You  thought  I  was  sad,  my  dear,  amiable  Pauline,  but  I  was 
only  occupied  with  a  number  of  things  I  had  to  say  to  you,  and  which 
appear  to  me  so  serious  and  important,  that,  whOe  thinking  of  them, 
I  came  to  the  conclusion  that  I  could  not  do  better  than  write  them 
to  you,  so  that,  having  them  before  you  on  paper,  you  might  at  once 
understand  their  full  import.  If  I  spoke  to  you  on  the  subject,  you 
would  perhaps  only  remember  the  general  tenor  of  my  remarks,  and 
might  thus  end  by  misunderstanding  them,  and  it  is  very  important 
that  things  upon  which  the  happiness  of  my  life  depends  should  be 
clearly  explained.  You  must  have  been  aware,  my  dear  Pauline, 
that  a  sincere  and  lasting  attachment  was  the  cause  of  my  doing  aU 
I  have  done  for  you ;  although  I  have  been  sufficiently  prudent  not 
to  make  a  direct  proposition  for  your  hand  until  I  knew  I  could  place 


PAULINE.  Ill 

you  in  a  proper  position.  All  my  actions  must  have  proved  what 
my  intentions  were,  and  that  they  were  honorable.  Now  that  I  have 
carried  out  my  promises,  and  advanced  money  for  the  settlement  of 
your  affairs,  I  am  anxious  to  gather  the  sweet  fruit  of  my  labors ;  I 
even  spoke  of  it  yesterday  to  your  uncle,  who  appeared  favorably 
disposed  toward  me.  I  must  even  confess  to  you  that  I  went  so  far 
as  to  flatter  myself  that  you  would  not  withhold  your  consent  when 
I  explained  to  you  clearly  what  my  intentions  were.  Pardon  me, 
my  dear  Pauline  ;  it  was  not  in  any  spirit  of  presumption  that  I  made 
this  avowal  to  him.  I  thought  I  might  look  upon  your  constant 
friendship  as  an  earnest  of  what  I  stated.  Will  you  disavow  me  ? 
One  thing  alone  stops  me,  my  dear  Pauline :  I  find  that,  with  care 
and  proper  economy,  the  state  of  my  affairs  will  enable  me  to  offer 
you  an  agreeable  future,  and  this  is  the  sole  object  of  my  heart ;  but 
if,  by  some  dreadful  misfortune,  all  the  money  which  I  have  sent  to 
St.  Domingo  should  be  lost  in  setting  to  rights  an  affair,  the  particu- 
lars of  which  we  at  present  know  only  through  the  representations 
of  others,  my  means  would  not  allow  me  to  maintain  you  in  the  posi- 
tion in  which  I  should  first  of  all  have  placed  you,  and  in  that  case, 
how  great  would  be  my  grief!  I  should  encounter  universal  censure, 
and  my  Pauline  would  be  in  comparative  distress.  This  uncertainty 
is,  then,  the  only  reason  which  compels  me  to  delay  asking  for  your 
hand,  for  which  I  have  long  sighed.  I  do  not  know  what  you  are 
entitled  to  from  your  uncle's  property,  either  on  account  of  the  dowry 
of  your  late  aunt,  or  on  account  of  the  debts  which  I  have  heard 
spoken  of  indirectly.  It  would  be  unbecoming  on  my  part  to  ask  for 
any  explanation  on  this  point  either  from  you  or  from  him.  My 
disposition  is  averse  to  it ;  and  as  his  niece,  for  whom  he  appears  to 
have  much  affection,  may  hope  to  receive  some  favors  from  him  on 
the  occasion  of  her  marriage,  it  appears  to  me  that  it  would  be  wrong 
to  go  into  any  strict  reckonings,  which  should  never  take  place  be- 
tween relations  who  are  on  good  terms  with  one  another.  I  shall 
not,  then,  say  a  word  upon  this  subject; 

"  However,  my  dear  Pauline,  in  order  to  be  happy,  it  is  necessary 
we  should  be  at  ease  with  respect  to  our  future  existence ;  and  I 
should  no  sooner  have  clasped  you  in  my  arms  than  I  should  tremble 
lest  some  misfortune  should  make  us  lose  the  money  sent  to  Amer- 
ica ;  for  that  purpose  I  have  set  aside  no  less  than  80,000  francs. 
This,  my  dear  Pauline,  will  explain  a  silence  which,  afler  what  I  had 
done,  must  have  appeared  strange  to  you.  There  are  two  courses 
open  to  you  if  you  accept  my  offer :  the  first  is,  to  wait  until  the  full 
success  of  my  plans  enables  me  to  place  you  in  a  proper  position ; 
the  second,  that  you  should  get  your  aunt,  if  my  views  be  agreeable 
to  her,  to  ascertain  the  opinion  of  your  uncle  on  the  subject.     Far 


112  BEAUMAECHAIS  AKD  HIS  TIMES. 

from  wishing,  however,  that  he  should  diminish  his  means  in  order 
to  increase  yours,  I  am  quite  ready  to  give  up  a  portion  of  my  own 
property  in  order  to  render  his  old  age  more  comfortable,  if  the  pres- 
ent position  of  his  affairs  should  require  it.  You  know  me  well 
enough  to  believe  that  I  would  make  any  such  advances.  But,  if  his 
affection  for  you  should  induce  him  to  settle  any  thing  upon  you,  my 
desire  is  that  you  should,  under  no  circumstances,  succeed  to  what- 
ever property  he  may  bestow  upon  you  until  death  should  prevent 
him  enjoying  it  himself;  and  since  what  a  person  gives  at  his  death 
will  soon  cease  to  belong  to  him  at  all,  I  do  not  think  it  would  be  un- 
becoming to  solicit  some  such  favor  from  an  uncle,  who  wiU  act  as  a 
father  to  you  on  the  occasion  of  your  marriage,  and  who  has  a  right 
to  expect  increased  happiness  in  his  old  age  from  your  care  and  at- 
tention. With  some  assurance  from  him  on  this  point,  we  shall  be 
able  to  conclude  our  happy  union,  and  to  look  upon  the  money  which 
-has  been  sent  away  as  a  sort  of  nest-egg  for  the  future  in  case  of 
success,  while,  in  case  of  failure,  we  shall  be  compensated  for  it  by 
the  kindness  of  your  uncle.  Give  me  your  opinion  on  the  subject 
when  you  send  your  answer.  My  affection  for  you  will  always  stand 
before  every  thing  else,  even  before  my  prudence.  My  fate  is  in 
your  hands,  yours  is  in  that  of  your  uncle." 

Freed  from  all  its  rhetorical  artifice,  this  periphrastic  letter 
means,  "  I  love  you  very  much,  but  I  can  not  marry  you  until 
I  know  what  your  estate  will  bring  in,  or  until  your  uncle 
promises  to  leave  you  his  fortune." 

Let  those,  however,  who  may  be  inclined  to  exclaim  at  this 
excessive  prudence  on  the  part  of  Beaumarchais,  remember 
that  on  the  score  of  friendship  he  had  shown  no  prudence  at 
all  when  he  advanced  a  considerable  capital  in  money  and 
goods  for  the  St.  Domingo  estate.  It  is,  at  the  same  time,  true 
that  a  sensitive  girl  might  not  have  felt  much  flattered  by  this 
exhibition  of  aflfection  and  self-interest ;  but  a  person  who  is 
in  love  does  not  always  look  at  things  so  closely;  and  the 
proof  that  Pauline's  heart  was  engaged  more  deeply  than  that 
of  Beaumarchais  is  found  in  her  reply.  It  will,  I  think,  be 
found  more  interesting  than  the  somewhat  involved  epistle 
which  the  reader  has  just  seen.  It  appears  to  me  to  express 
the  true  sentiments  of  an  ingenuous  and  devoted  young  heart. 
Here  it  is. 

"  Your  letter,  my  dear  friend,*  has  thrown  me  into  a  state  of  great 

*  Monsieur  mon  bon  ami. 


paulise's  love-letteks.  113 

trouble.  I  did  not  feel  myself  able  to  reply  to  it  alone,  and  at  the 
same  time  I  thought  it  best  not  to  show  it  to  my  aunt,  as  her  affec- 
tion for  me — which  is  what  I  value  most  in  her — would  have  been 
of  no  assistance  to  me.  You  will  doubtless  be  astonished  at  the  in- 
trepid step  I  took :  the  moment  was  favorable,  your  letter  was  press- 
ing, and  my  embarrassment  was  perhaps  of  more  assistance  to  me 
than  the  best  advice.  I  went  and  threw  myself  into  my  uncle's  arms ; 
the  ice  was  broken ;  I  opened  my  heart  to  him  without  reserve ;  I 
asked  him  to  guide  me  with  his  advice  and  affection,  and  at  last  ven- 
tured, my  dear  friend,  to  give  him  your  letter  without  your  consent- 
All  this  was  a  sudden  impulse  of  my  own,  and  I  am  pleased  that  I 
overcame  my  blushes  and  timidity  in  order  that  he  might  himself 
know  the  inmost  feelings  of  my  heart.  It  appeared  to  me  as  though 
the  confidence  I  was  placing  in  him  increased  his  kindness.  Indeed, 
my  dear  friend,  I  am  very  pleased  at  having  gone  to  see  him  of  my 
own  accord.  I  became  convinced,  from  conversing  with  him,  of  his 
good  feeling  toward  me ;  and  what  pleased  me  still  more  was,  that 
I  found  he  was  full  of  esteem  for  you,  and  rendered  you  all  that  jus- 
tice which  your  friends  render  you  with  so  much  pleasure.  I  like 
him  a  thousand  times  more  for  it.  With  regard  to  the  answers  to 
the  important  points  in  your  letter,  he  wishes  to  speak  to  you  about 
them  himself.  I  should  acquit  myself  too  imperfectly  of  such  a  task 
to  think  of  undertaking  it.     He  wishes  to  see  you  on  the  subject. 

"  You  tell  me  that  your  fate  is  in  my  hands,  and  that  mine  is  in 
those  of  my  uncle.  I  now  make  my  interests  over  to  you.  If  you 
love  me  as  I  think  you  do,  try  and  transfuse  some  of  your  own  affec- 
tionate enthusiasm  into  the  heart  of  my  uncle.  Your  heart  and  in- 
tellect must  on  this  occasion  work  together,  my  dear  friend,  and  noth- 
ing can  then  resist  you.  Give  me  this  proof  of  your  affection.  I 
shall  look  upon  your  success  as  the  most  convincing  proof  of  your 
anxiety  for  what  you  call  so  charmingly  the  '  happiness  of  your  life  ;' 
words  which  your  foolish  Pauline  could  not  read  without  her  heart 
beating  in  a  fearful  manner.  Adieu,  my  dear  friend ;  I  hope  your 
first  visit,  after  leaving  Versailles,  will  be  to  my  uncle.  Think  of  all 
the  respect  you  owe  him  in  case  he  should  become  yours  also.  I 
conclude,  as  I  feel  that  I  am  writing  the  most  extravagant  nonsenca 
possible.     Good-night,  torment." 

The  uncle  having  apparently  refused  to  bind  himseir  in  a 
formal  manner,  the  union  between  Pauline  and  Beaumarchais 
was  nevertheless  not  broken  off;  but  it  was  agreed  that  it 
should  be  postponed  until  after  the  settlement  of  the  St.  Do- 
mingo affairs.  In  the  mean  while  they  continued  to  see  and 
love  one  another,  and  the  heart  of  the  young  Creole  became 


114  BEAUMAECHAIS   AND    HIS   TEVIES. 

more  and  more  deeply  committed.  The  packet  I  have  be- 
fore me  only  contains  a  few  of  her  letters;  the  others  were 
sent  back  to  her,  at  her  own  request,  after  the  rupture ;  but, 
as  often  happens  in  such  a  case,  Beaumarchais  took  care  to 
keep  the  most  strongly  marked  ones ;  perhaps  Pauline,  on  her 
side,  acted  in  the  same  manner,  for  in  the  series  of  her  lover's 
letters  there  occurs  now  and  then  a  hiatus  which  throws  a 
slight  shadow  over  the  various  incidents  of  this  little  domestic 
romance. 

In  general,  those  of  Beaumarchais'  letters  which  remain  in 
the  packet  ai^e  wanting  in  enthusiasm  and  poetry.  One  would 
think  that  so  charming  a  person  would  have  inspired  some- 
thing better.  However,  some  of  his  strange  epistles  are  not 
without  interest,  as  tending  to  explain  that  original  and  com- 
plex character  known  as  Figaro.  It  has  been  sometimes  said 
that  the  analytic,  reasoning  side  of  this  character,  who  is  oth- 
erwise so  active  and  bustling,  was  purely  artificial — that  it 
was  only  a  device  for  enabling  the  author  to  introduce  allu- 
aons  to  things  of  the  day,  and  satirical  observations  on  socie- 
ty. Now  it  is  easy  enough  to  see  in  the  letters  from  Madrid, 
which  we  have  quoted,  how  much  Beaumarchais  was  natu- 
rally a  man  both  of  action  and  analysis — an  Abbe  de  Gondi 
and  a  Montaigne ;  how  much  he  delights  in  interrupting  his 
narratives  from  time  to  time  for  the  sake  of  philosophizing  at 
random  either  about  himself  or  any  one  else.  This  peculiari- 
ty is  shown  in  a  still  more  striking  manner  in  his  correspond- 
ence with  Pauline.  In  the  famous  Monologue  of  the  fifth  act 
of  the  "  Marriage  of  Figaro,"  the  hero  appears  in  a  strange 
light,  choosing,  as  he  does,  the  very  moment  when  he  is  eat- 
en up  with  jealousy  for  entering  upon  a  dissertation  de  omni 
re  scibili;  but  not  less  strange  does  Beaumarchais  appear  when, 
at  the  age  of  thirty,  he  sends  dissertations  in  the  style  of  the 
following  to  a  young  girl  who  loves  him  and  with  whom  he 
is  in  love. 

"  I  thank  you,  my  dear  Pauline,  for  the  praises  you  award  to  my 
first  letter,*  but  it  has  assuredly  been  more  successful  than  you  can 

*  Not  the  letter  we  have  quoted,  but  a  previous  one,  full  of  badinage, 
which  Beaumarchais  had  sent,  saying  that  he  was  determined  not  to 
commence  the  correspondence. 


BEAUMAKCHAIS  ON  THE  EFFECTS  OF  LOVE.     115 

be  aware.  It  has  touched  your  amour  propre :  a  desire  to  reproach 
me  produces  the  necessity  of  writing  to  me,  and  hence  I  have  a  let- 
ter from  you.  That  is  all  I  desired  ;  the  summit  of  my  wishes  has 
been  attained.  You  have  written  to  me  first,  for  my  letter  which  you 
complain  of  can  scarcely  be  considered  one  at  all.  The  second  is  of 
a  difierent  kind,  it  having  been  necessitated  by  business.  It  follows, 
from  all  this,  that  you  have  been  the  first  to  write.  My  self-love  is 
gratified  ;  and  when  we  say  self-love,  we  mean  love  also,  for  the  lat- 
ter feeling  is  only  an  extension  of  the  former  toward  an  object  which 
we  consider  worthy  of  us.  We  love  ourselves  when  we  love  our 
mistress,  and  applaud  the  judicious  choice  which  testifies  to  our  good 
taste  ;  we  love  ourselves  when  we  lavish  our  aifection  upon  her,  and 
thus  endeavor  to  incline  her  heart  toward  us.  .  .  .  All  the  happi- 
ness or  unhappiness  of  life  must  be  looked  at  from  one  point  of  view ; 
it  must  be  considered  with  reference  to  its  effect  upon  ourselves ; 
without  this  self-love  we  can  experience  no  passion  at  all.  It  is  of 
divine  origin,  and  the  love  of  a  charming  creature  is  only  so  delight- 
ful because  it  proceeds  secretly  from  love  of  self.  Pardon  me,  my 
darling  Pauline,  if  I  assume  the  character  of  a  metaphysician  ;  what 
I  have  written  has  escaped  me,  and  can  not  be  altogether  obscure  to 
so  enlightened,  delicate,  and  refined  a  perception  sis  yours.  I  leave, 
then,  or  rather,  abjure  all  trifling,  as  your  affectionate  love  must  ex- 
pect something  more  serious- from  me." 

We  would  think  now  that  Beaumarchais  was  about  to  in- 
dulge in  sentiment.  Not  at  all  so  ;  he  is  about  to  commence 
another  dissertation,  but  on  another  point.  "^ 

"  Listen  to  me,  fair  child ;  the  pen  should  be  directed  by  the  im- 
pulse of  sentiment  alone  :  the  man  w^ho  reflects  when  he  is  writing 
to  his  mistress  is  a  knave,  and  is  deceiving  her.  What  can  it  mat- 
ter about  a  letter  being  nicely  phrased,  about  the  periods  being  well 
rounded  1  True  love  is  not  particular  about  such  details  :  love  be- 
gins a  sentence  wliich  it  thinks  a  good  one,  breaks  it  off  to  begin  an- 
other, which  strikes  it  as  better ;  a  third  suggests  itself,  which  has 
more  warmth  than  either  of  the  others  ;  confusion  ensues ;  through 
having  so  much  to  express,  you  express  it  badly.  Ah !  this  confu- 
sion is  sweet  food  for  the  heart  which  finds  it  on  the  paper.  The 
epidemic,  in  spite  of  space  and  time,  is  communicated  by  reading  the 
letter,  and  the  charm  is  willingly  shared  of  a  confusion  which  one  is 
conscious  of  having  been  the  first  to  produce.  She  says  to  herself, 
*  When  my  lover  writes  or  speaks  about  business,  he  does  so  in  a 
sensible  manner ;  his  ideas  are  linked  together,  his  conclusions  fol- 
low naturally  from  his  premises  ;  every  thing  proceeds  to  one  com- 
mon end ;  but  as  soon  as  he  gives  bis  pen  up  to  his  poor  heart,  he 


116  BEAUMAKCHAIS   AND   HIS   TIMES. 

commences  tranquilly,  then  warms  up,  at  last  wanders,  and  refuses  to 
be  guided  on  his  road.  Thinking  of  one  thing  alone,  how  can  it  mat- 
ter to  him  what  he  says,  provided  he  proves  that  he  loves  V  Well, 
you  are  right,  my  dear  little  girl,  and  I  accept  the  privilege  which 
your  example  gives  me.*  I  tell  you  that  I  love  you :  I  repeat  it ;  do 
you  believe  it?  If  you  doubt,  the  misfortune  is  your  own.  My  own 
consciousness  of  my  affection  constitutes  my  real  happiness ;  your 
opinion  of  it  only  occupies  a  secondary  position.  I  would  rather  for- 
give your  injustice  than  deserve  it.  In  the  first  place,  the  love  we 
feel ;  in  the  second,  that  which  we  inspire — such  are  the  real  grada- 
tions in  the  soul's  happiness.  What  can  I  say  to  you  1  My  heart  is 
full  of  your  last  thought.  It  will  require  more  than  half  an  hour  of 
silence  and  repose  before  it  can  regain  the  calmness  which  the  noble 
fire  that  elevates  it  when  I  write  to  you  has  caused  it  to  lose ;  but, 
far  from  complaining,  I  delight  in  this  situation. 

"  Ah !  good  heavens !  I  was  going  to  begin  another  sheet,  and  1 
have  no  more  paper ;  I  have  not  been  writing  more  than  five  min- 
utes   Marchand,!  in  future  I  must  have  some  papier  a  la 

Telliere  for  my  letters  to  Paris." 

While  making  allowance  for  Beaumarchais'  fondness  for  dis- 
sertation, w^e  may  perhaps  be  allowed  to  call  in  question  the 
sincerity  of  a  love  which  he  concludes  with  such  a  peroration. 
While  he  is  endeavoring  to  prove  that  a  certain  want  of  con- 
nection in  ideas  is  one  of  the  characteristics  of  passion — which 
is  quite  true — the  writer  of  the  letter  does  not  appear  to  join 
the  example  to  the  precept ;  afterward  he  appears  to  be  striv- 
ing his  utmost  to  attain  the  desired  confusion,  and  it  is  diffi- 
cult to  find  any  signs  of  the  "  noble  fire"  which  deprives  him 
of  his  calmness,  the  more  so  as  the  ^vriting  itself  is  particular- 
ly quiet  and  subdued.  Beaumarchais  is  seen  to  greater  ad- 
vantage when  he  is  satisfied  with  being  simple,  gay,  and  good- 
humored,  as  in  the  following  note : 

"  Good-day,  dear  aunt ;  I  embrace  you,  my  beloved  Pauline  ;  your 
servant,  my  charming  Perrette.  J     My  little  children,  love  one  anoth- 

*  The  privilege  of  tutoiement,  or  of  using  the  tu  and  toi  of  the  singu- 
lar instead  of  the  vons  of  the  plural. — Tkans. 

It  will  be  seen  that  Pauline  adopted  the  tutoiement  first.  This  was 
sometimes  the  case  in  the  eighteenth  century,  according  to  the  "  Nou- 
velle  Heloise,"  in  which  Jiijie  is  made  to  take  the  initiative  in  the  fa- 
miliar mode  of  address.  t  Beaumarchais'  senant. 

X  This  charming  Perrette — who  used  to  live  with  the  aunt,  in  what 


XnREE    PAIRS    OF    LOVEKS.  117 

er ;  it  is  the  precept  of  the  apostle.  One  of  you  will  love  me,  I  some- 
times say  to  myself,  as  her  son,  one  of  you  will  love  me  as  her  broth- 
er ;  while  my  Pauline,  uniting  all  kinds  of  love  in  her  good  little  heart, 
will  inundate  me  with  a  deluge  of  affection,  to  which  I  shall  reply  ac- 
cording to  the  power  given  by  Providence  to  your  devoted  servant, 

your  sincere  friend,  your  future But  stop !  what  was  I  about 

to  write  ?  It  would  have  gone  beyond  the  bounds  of  the  profound  re- 
spect with  which  I  have  the  honor  to  be,  mademoiselle,  &c.,  &c." 

I  find  in  one  of  Julie's  letters  of  this  period  a  passage  in 
which,  with  her  accustomed  veii'e,  she  represents  three  pah-s 
of  lovers,  who  at  the  beginning  of  1764  were  enlivening  the 
establishment  in  the  Rue  de  Conde,  and  the  old  age  of  M. 
Caron,  senior,  with  their  preparations  for  marriage.  All  the 
characters  but  one,  of  whom  we  shall  hear  directly,  are  al- 
ready known  to  the  reader ;  he  will  perhaps  be  pleased  to  see 
them  once  more  grouped  by  the  lively  and  amusing  pencil  of 
Julie. 

"  Our  house,"  she  writes  to  her  friend  Helen,  "  is  a  nest  of  lovers, 
living  in  love  and  hope.  I  laugh  at  it  more  than  any  of  the  others, 
because  I  am  less  in  love  than  any  of  them ;  but  I  can  understand 
that,  to  the  philosophic  eye,  it  would  present  a  picture  equally  useful 
and  interesting.  Beaumarchais  is  a  perverse  being,  who  by  his  lev- 
ity teases  and  grieves  PauUne.  Boisgarnier  and  Miron  discuss  sen- 
timent until  they  are  out  of  breath,  and  reason  themselves  systemati- 
cally into  a  state  of  sublime  irrationahty ;  the  Chevalier  and  myself 
are  even  worse  ;  he  as  loving  as  an  angel,  as  affectionate  as  a  ser- 
aph, while  1  am  as  lively  as  a  linnet  and  as  malicious  as  a  demon. 
Love  does  not  make  me  so  lackadaiscal  as  the  others,  but  neverthe- 
less, in  spite  of  my  mad  disposition,  I  can  not  escape  from  it  alto- 
gether ;  that  is  the  worst  of  the  matter." 

Indeed  Julie,  in  spite  of  her  offhand  manner,  cares  rather 
more  for  the  chevalier  than  she  chooses  to  admit.  This  new 
character,  who  is  about  to  play  a  part  in  the  episode  we  have 

undertaken  to  narrate,  was  the  Chevalier  de  S .     He  was 

born,  I  think,  at  St.  Domingo,  and  was  the  Deputy  Advo- 
cate-general at  the  Supreme  Council.  Although  a  compat- 
riot of  Pauline's,  he  did  not  know  her  when  he  first  became 
acquainted  with  Beaumarchais,  who  introduced  him  to  his 

capacity  I  am  unable  to  say — was  soon  the  cause  of  much  uneasiness  to 
Pauline,  and  afterward  became  the  pretext  for  her  rupture  with  Beau- 
marchais. 


118  BEAUMABCHAIS   AND   HIS   TIMES. 

family,  and  witnessed  with  pleasure  the  attention  he  paid  to 
his  sister  Julie.  He  was,  it  appears,  rather  poor,  but  he  had 
a  name,  a  good  position,  and  would  have  been  a  good  match 
for  Julie,  who  had  no  fortune  beyond  what  she  might  expect 
from  the  generosity  of  her  brother. 

Things  were  in  this  position  when  Beaumarchais  started 
for  Spain,  still  engaged  to  Pauline,  who  continued  to  write 
him  very  affectionate  letters,  complaining  occasionally  that 
he  omitted  to  answer  them,  while  Julie  was  imprudent  enough 
to  amuse  herself  by  teasing  the  young  Creole  with  accounts 
of  the  gayety  of  her  devoted  servant  at  Madrid.  "  When  are 
you  coming  back?"  exclaims  Pauline  in  one  of  her  letters. 
"Plorrid  journey!  how  it  distresses  me,  gracious  Heaven!" 
And  Julie,  who  is  always  kind  in  spite  of  her  satire,  and  who 
is  very  fond  of  Pauline,  attacks  in  her  way  the  laziness  of  her 
brother,  and  tells  him  to  "  write  a  word  to  this  child." 

Although  Pauline's  betrothed  does  not  appear  sufficiently 
ardent  in  his  affection,  we  must  acknowledge  that  he  looks 
after  her  interest  with  all  the  zeal  of  a  sincere  friend.  The 
news  which  he  receives  from  St.  Domingo  by  the  relative 
whom  he  had  sent  there  is  unfavorable :  the  estate  is  in  a  de- 
plorable condition,  and  mortgaged  beyond  its  value ;  the  rela- 
tive himself  dies,  and  all  the  money  and  goods  which  Beau- 
marchais had  intrusted  to  him  had  been  sunk,  as  Beaumar- 
chais had  feared  it  would  be,  in  the  property.  In  spite  of 
this,  Beaumarchais,  on  his  return  from  Spain,  seemed  still 
resolved  to  marry  Pauline.  He  thought  of  letting  the  estate 
be  sold  by  the  creditors,  and  buying  it  in  himself;  but  he  was 
told  that  if  well  administered  it  would  produce  a  consider- 
able revenue.  In  the  mean  while,  a  misundersta.nding  arose 
between  himself  and  his  betrothed,  which  was  occasioned  in 
the  first  instance  by  his  own  levity.     In  the  midst  of  it  all, 

he  heard  that  the  Chevalier  de  S ,  who  had  first  of  all 

appeared  as  an  aspirant  for  the  hand  of  his  sister  Julie,  had 
now  views  on  Pauline.  The  chevalier  denies  it  strongly  in  a 
letter  to  Beaumarchais,  which  terminates  as  foUows : 

"  It  appears  to  me,  sir,  that  a  story  without  foundation  should  find 
less  favor  in  your  eyes  than  in  those  of  any  one  else,  both  because 
yours  are  better,  and  because  you  have  been  all  your  life  the  victim 


BEAUMAKCHAIS   SUSPICIOUS.  119 

of  such  tales.     However,  I  beg  you  to  believe  that  I  do  not  write  to 
you  in  order  to  obtain  your  pardon,  but  because  it  is  a  duty  I  owe  to 

myself  and  to  Mademoiselle  le  B to  make  the  truth  known  with 

regard  to  a  subject  which  compromises  her,  and  because  it  would  be 
painful,  and  very  painful  to  me,  to  lose  your  esteem." 

Pauline,  when  interrogated  on  the  subject,  replied  by  this 
very  abrupt  note,  which  already  indicates  a  considerable  alter- 
ation in  her  sentiments ; 

"  As  I  was  unaware,  before  I  received  your  letter,  of  the  cheva^ 
her's  intentions,  and  as  the  whole  affair  is  unmtelligible  to  me,  you 
will  allow  me  to  enlighten  myself  before  I  send  you  an  answer. 
With  regard  to  the  reproach  you  address  to  me  in  reference  to  Julie, 
I  do  not  think  I  deserve  it.  If  I  have  not  sent  to  inquire  after  her  as 
often  as  I  ought  to  have  done,  it  was  because  I  had  been  assured  that 
she  was  much  better,  and  that  she  had  been  seen  at  the  window, 
which  made  me  think  that  the  news  of  her  improvement  was  true. 
If  my  aunt  were  not  suffering  from  her  attack  of  erysipelas,  which 
prevents  me  leaving  the  house,  I  should  certainly  go  and  see  her :  I 
embrace  her  with  all  my  heart," 

Both  the  accused  parties  were  in  all  probability  innocent  at 
this  periody  if  I  can  judge  by  a  letter  from  a  cousin  of  Pau- 
line's, who  was  one  of  Beaumarchais'  friends,  and  who,  after 
being  addressed  by  him  on  the  subject  in  a  very  violent  man- 
ner, replies,  "  AVhen  you  are  in  a  more  tranquil  state  of  mind, 
and  render  me  justice,  I  will  speak  to  you  openly,  and  I  will 
prove  to  you  that  you,  who  condemn  others  so  easily,  are  more 
guilty  than  those  whom  you  accuse  of  dissimulation,  treach- 
ery, or  perfidy.  Nothing  is  so  pure  as  the  heart  of  dear  Pau- 
line, more  noble  than  that  of  the  chevalier,  or  more  sincere 
than  mine,  and  yet  you  look  upon  all  three  of  us  as  mon- 
sters !"  The  same  letter  indicates  that  Beaumarchais,  in  his 
irritation,  was  no  longer  willing  to  marry  Pauline  ;  for  it  con- 
tains the  following  passage:  "You  tell  me  to  keep  the  con- 
tents of  your  letter  secret ;  rest  assured  that  I  shall  do  so  ;  but 
I  think  it  singular  that  you  should  determine  not  to  marry 
Mademoiselle  le  B ,  and  yet  require  me  not  to  mention  it." 

"Wliat  took  place  betw^een  the  date  of  this  letter — (and  we 
may  state  parenthetically  that  it  is  almost  the  only  one  which 
is  dated,  a  point  which  has  rendered  the  sifting  of  this  affair 
rather  a  difficult  matter) — what  took  place  between  the  date 


120  BEAUMAKCHAIS  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

of  the  last  letter,  November  8, 1765,  and  the  date  of  February 
11,  1766,  which  appears  to  be  that  of  the  final  rupture  be- 
tween Pauline  and  Beaumarchais  ?  Here  a  slight  hiatus  oc- 
curs ;  but  enough  documents  have  been  preserved  to  enable 
us  to  understand  the  contents  of  those  which  are  missing.  It 
is  evident  that  what  was  at  first  but  a  report,  perhaps  without 
foundation,  became  gradually  the  truth.  Whether  Pauline's 
love  ceased  under  the  influence  of  Beaumarchais'  levities  (and 
it  will  be  seen  farther  on  that  that  was  the  reason  or  pretext 
alleged),  or  whether  the  long  delay  and  the  hesitation  which 
he  exhibited  in  making  up  his  mind  to  the  marriage  wounded 
her  aniour  j)ropre,  or  alarmed  her  about  the  future,  or  whether 
she  simply  took  a  fancy  to  the  Chevalier  de  S ,  it  is  cer- 
tain that  she  became  more  and  more  attached  to  him.  The 
chevalier,  on  the  other  hand,  who  a  year  previously,  in  writ- 
ing to  Beaumarchais,  had  said  of  Julie,  "  She  is  the  only  ob- 
ject of  my  thoughts  and  affection ;"  the  chevalier,  whether 
he  had  been  set  at  liberty  by  Julie,  or  had  set  himself  at  liber- 
ty, was  becoming  attracted  more  and  more  toward  Pauline, 
and  at  last  appeared  to  be  on  the  point  of  supplanting  Beau- 
marchais. At  this  juncture,  Beaumarchais,  on  the  same  day, 
wrote  two  letters,  one  after  another,  to  Pauline,  which  I  give 
almost  entire,  not  as  models  of  style,  for  they  have  no  literary 
value,  but  because  they  appear  to  me  to  contain  materials 
which  are  of  use  for  the  study  of  mankind  in  general,  and  that 
of  Beaumarchais  in  particular. 

In  novels,  each  impulse  of  the  human  heart  is  generally  rep- 
resented by  itself  in  sharp,  strongly-marked,  unmixed  colors. 
In  real  life,  however,  we  find  that  when  an  impulse  is  not  suf- 
ficiently powerful  (which  is  generally  the  case)  to  stifle  all  the 
others,  the  human  heart  presents  a  spectacle  of  confusion,  in 
which  very  different  (and  often  contrary)  feelings  are  at  work 
at  the  same  time.  Thus,  in  the  letters  which  are  about  to  be 
placed  before  the  reader,  may  be  distinguished  a  remnant  of 
love,  awakened  and  excited  by  jealousy,  but  repressed  in  its 
utterance  by  vanity ;  scruples  of  delicacy  and  honor,  fears  of 
what  the  world  will  say,  a  wish  to  prove  that  the  writer  has 
nothing  to  reproach  himself  with,  an  intention  to  marry  the 
young  lady,  and  yet  a  certain  unwillingness  to  be  taken  at  his 


A    LAST   APPEAL.  121 

word ;  for  although  these  letters  contain  a  very  formal  offer 
of  marriage,  they  also  contain  passages  which  are  sufficiently 
abrupt  and  cutting  to  make  Pauline  reply  by  a  refusal.  On 
the  other  hand,  it  is  evident,  above  all,  in  the  second  letter, 
that  Beaumarchais  fears  this  refusal,  and,  either  from  love  or 
self-love,*  wishes  to  prevent  it : 

"  You  have  given  me  up,"  he  writes  to  Pauline  ;  "  and  what  period 
have  you  chosen  for  doing  so  ?  That  which  I  intended,  before  your 
friends  and  my  own,  to  be  the  epoch  of  our  union.  I  have  seen  per- 
fidy taking  advantage  of  weakness,  in  order  to  turn  every  thing,  even 
my  own  offers,  against  myself.  I  have  seen  you — you  who  have  so 
often  complained  of  the  acts  of  injustice  which  men  have  committed  to- 
ward me — I  have  seen  you  join  with  them  to  inflict  on  me  injuries  of 
which  I  had  never  dreamed.  If  I  had  not  meant  to  marry  you,  should 
I  have  attended  so  little  to  the  usual  forms  in  the  services  which  I 
have  rendered  you?  Should  I  have  assembled  my  friends,  two 
months  before  your  refusal,  to  tell  them  my  final  resolution,  which  I 
had  asked  them  to  keep  secret  in  consequence  of  certain  precautions 
which  I  could  not  mention,  but  which  made  it  absolutely  necessary 
for  me  to  act  as  I  did  ?  Every  thing  has  been  turned  against  me. 
The  conduct  of  a  double-faced  and  perfidious  friend,!  whde  it  gave 
me  a  painful  lesson,  at  the  same  time  taught  me  that  there  was  no 
woman,  however  amiable  and  affectionate,  who  could  not  be  seduced 
and  caused  to  change.  At  the  same  time,  the  contempt  of  all  who 
witnessed  his  conduct  is  his  just  reward.  Let  me  now  come  back 
to  yourself.  It  is  not  without  regret  that  I  have  directed  my  thoughts 
toward  you,  since  the  first  warmth  of  my  resentment  has  passed 
away ;  and  when  I  insisted  that  you  shoidd  state  to  me  in  writing 
that  you  rejected  my  offer  of  marriage,  there  was  mixed  with  my 
annoyance  a  secret  curiosity  to  know  whether  you  would  take  that 
final  step.  I  must  now  satisfy  my  conscience  about  it  completely. 
I  have  received  a  very  advantageous  proposition  of  marriage ;  as  I 
was  on  the  point  of  accepting  it,  I  all  at  once  felt  myself  unable  to  do 
so.  Some  scruple  of  honor — some  recollection  of  the  past,  made  me 
hesitate.  I  ought  certainly  to  consider  myself  free  and  released  from 
all  obligations  to  you  after  what  has  taken  place.  However,  I  am 
not  at  rest ;  your  letters  do  not  tell  me,  in  a  sufficiently  formal  way, 
what  it  is  so  necessary  for  me  to  know.  Tell  me  truly,  I  beg  of  you 
— Have  you  so  entirely  given  me  up  that  I  am  at  liberty  to  contract 
an  engagement  with  another  woman  1     Consult  your  heart  on  this 

*  It  has  been  seen  above  that,  according  to  his  theory,  the  two  feel- 
ings were  inseparable. 

t  This  is  evidently  intended  for  the  Chevalier  de  S . 

F 


122  BEAUMaBCHAIS  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

point  while  my  scrupulousness  puts  the  question  to  you.  If  you  have 
totally  severed  the  knot  which  was  to  have  united  us,  do  not  fear  to 
tell  me  so  forthwith.  In  order  that  your  amour propre  may  be  quite 
at  ease  with  regard  to  the  request  I  am  making  to  you,  I  must  add 
that  I  now  place  all  things  in  the  same  position  they  were  in  before 
all  this  misunderstanding.  My  request  would  not  be  just  if,  by  way 
of  laying  a  snare  for  you,  I  did  not  leave  you  at  liberty  to  send  me 
whatever  answer  you  thought  best.  If  you  do  not  set  me  free,  write 
to  me  that  you  are  the  same  sweet,  affectionate  Pauline  for  life  whwn 
I  knew  formerly,  and  that  you  will  esteem  yourself  happy  in  being 
mine  :  that  moment  I  break  off  with  all  but  yourself.  I  only  ask  you 
to  say  nothing  about  it  for  three  days  to  any  one  on  earth  without  a 
single  exception  ;  and  in  that  case,  keep  this  letter,  and  let  your  an- 
swer be  brought  back  to  me.  If  your  heart  be  given  to  another,  or 
you  entertain  an  insuperable  aversion  to  me,  at  least  appreciate  my 
attention  in  sending  you  this  letter.  Give  the  bearer  your  declaration 
setting  me  at  liberty  ;  I  shall  feel  from  the  bottom  of  my  heart  that  I 
have  fulfilled  all  my  duties  toward  you,  and  shall  be  satisfied  with 
myself.  Farewell ;  I  am — until  I  receive  your  answer,  under  what- 
ever appellation  you  choose  to  give  me — Mademoiselle,  your  very 
humble,  «Sz:c.,  De  Beaumarchais." 

This  first  letter  was  not  very  eng^ng ;  it  had  been  deliv- 
ered to  Pauline  and  withdrawal  before  vshe  had  time  to  answer 
it.  Beaumarchais  sent  it  back  to  her  the  same  day  with  a 
second  one,  which  we  subjoin. 

'•  Friday  evening. 

**  I  asked  you  to  send  me  an  answer  in  writing.  You  sent  after 
my  sister  to  ask  her  for  the  letter  to  which  you  promised  a  reply. 
She  thought  it  best  to  withdraw  it  from  you,  and  give  it  back  to  me. 
I  now  send  it  you  again,  begging  that  you  will  read  it  with  attention, 
and  give  a  formal  answer  to  it.  I  wish  very  much  that  no  one  stood 
between  you  and  myself,  in  order  that  I  might  be  able  to  count  on 
the  truth  of  what  you  may  state  to  me.  I  send  you  back  your  packet 
of  letters.  If  you  retain  them,  join  mine  to  your  reply.  The  peru- 
sal of  your  letters  has  had  a  great  effect  on  me,  and  I  do  not  wish  to 
undergo  so  much  pain  another  time.  But,  before  answering  me,  con- 
sider well  what  will  be  most  advantageous,  both  as  regards  your  for- 
tune and  your  happiness.  My  object  is,  that,  forgetting  all  that  has 
occurred,  we  pass  our  days  agreeably  and  tranquilly.  Do  not  let  the 
fear  of  having  to  live  with  any  members  of  my  family,  who  might 
not  please  you,  interfere  with  your  affection,  if  it  has  not  been  extin- 
guished by  a  passion  for  some  one  else.  My  home  will  be  so  ar- 
ranged, that,  whether  it  be  you  or  any  one  else,  my  wife  will  always 


A    LAST   APPEAL.  123 

be  mistress  in  my  house.  Your  uncle  burst  out  laughing  when  1 
complained  that  he  was  opposed  to  my  union  with  you.  He  said 
that,  in  his  opinion,  I  had  no  occasion  to  fear  a  refusal,  or  otherwise 
that  his  niece  must  have  lost  her  senses.  It  is  true  that,  when  I  was 
on  the  point  of  giving  you  up  forever,  I  experienced  an  emotion 
which  taught  me  that  I  cared  more  for  you  than  I  thought.  What 
I  ask  from  you,  then,  is  asked  in  the  best  faith  in  the  world.  Do  not 
flatter  yourself  that  you  will  ever  expose  me  to  the  chagrin  of  seeing 
you  the  wife  of  a  certain  man.  He  would  require  some  daring  to 
lift  his  eyes  before  the  public  if  he  meditated  the  accomplishment  of 
a  twofold  perfidy.  Pardon  me  if  I  express  myself  with  warmth. 
The  thought  never  entered  my  head  without  making  all  my  blood 
bod.* 

"  But,  whatever  may  be  your  decision,  do  not  delay  informing  me 
of  it,  for  I  have  suspended  every  thing  that  I  was  engaged  in,  in 
order  to  give  myself  up  once  more  to  you.  Your  uncle  has  repre- 
sented to  me  how  little  advantageous  this  marriage  would  be  to  me, 
but  I  am  far  from  attending  to  any  such  considerations.  I  wish  to 
leave  you  once  more  to  yourself  alone,  or  let  every  thing  be  finished 
between  us  for  life.  I  rely  upon  your  keeping  all  this  secretf  from 
every  one  but  your  aunt.  You  can  understand  that  I  should  have  a 
dreadful  cause  of  complaint  against  you  if  I  discovered  that  you  had 
not  kept  this  secret.  No  one  in  the  world  suspects  that  I  have  writ- 
ten to  you.  I  confess  it  would  appear  delightful  to  me  if,  while  all 
our  enemies  were  slimabering,  peace  could  be  concluded  between  us. 
Read  your  letters  again,  and  you  wUl  understand  how,  in  the  recesses 
of  my  heart,  I  found  all  those  feelings  which  they  originally  created." 

Pauline's  answer  is  much  more  laconic  and  much  more  in- 
telligible than  the  two  letters  which  have  just  been  given.  In 
her  case  there  are  no  conflicting  sentiments.  She  loves  Beau- 
marchais  no  longer,  and  she  loves  some  one  else.  This  is  very 
simple  and  very  evident. 

"  I  can  only  repeat  to  you,  sir,  what  I  said  to  your  sister,  that  I 
have  come  to  a  decision,  and  shall  not  depart  from  it.  Accordingly, 
I  thank  you  for  your  offer,  and  hope  with  all  my  heart  you  may  marry 
some  one  who  will  make  you  happy.  I  shall  hear  of  it  with  pleasure, 
as  I  shall  of  every  thing  else  which  brings  you  good  fortune.     I 

*  The  Chevalier  de  S again.     Here,  at  all  events,  is  something 

passionate,  but  it  is  the  only  bit  of  "Othello"  I  can  find  in  all  Beau- 
marchais'  letters.  The  whole  passage  indicates  that  he  had  at  the  time 
a  sincere  desire  to  marry  the  joiing  lady. 

t  What  a  desire  for  mysterj- !  Does  it  proceed  from  uneasy  vanity, 
or  &om  some  other  cause  ?    Upon  this  point  the  letters  throw  no  light. 


124  BEATJMAKCHAIS   AND   HIS   TIMES. 

have  already  assured  your  sister  of  this.  My  aunt  and  myself  have 
also  to  tell  you  how  vexed  we  are  that  you  should  show  us  such  dis- 
regard as  to  speak  very  ill,  in  connection  with  his  conduct  toward  us, 
of  a  man  whom  we  look  upon  as  our  friend.  I  know  better  than  any 
one  can  how  wrong  you  are  in  saying  that  he  is  perfidious.*  I  again 
told  your  sister  this  morning  that  a  young  lady  who  used  to  live  with 
my  aunt  was  the  cause  of  all  that  takes  place  now,f  and  that  since 
that  time  I  had  been  only  kept  back  by  the  world.  You  have  still 
several  letters  of  mine,  two  of  which  were  written  at  the  time  in 
question,  another  when  I  was  at  Fontainebleau,  besides  some  others, 
which  I  beg  you  will  send  me.  I  shall  request  one  of  our  friends 
from  St.  Domingo,  as  I  have  already  informed  you,  to  call  upon  you 
and  conclude  all  that  remains  to  be  terminated  between  us. 

"  I  am  most  perfectly,  sir,  your  very  humble  and  obedient  servant. 

"  Le  B ." 

Pauline,  who  formerly  concluded,  "  I  am  for  life  your  faith- 
ful Pauline,"  now  signs  politely  with  her  surname  ;  and  this 
correspondence  terminates,  like  a  great  many  others  of  the 
same  kind,  with,  "  I  have  the  honor  to  be  your  most  obedient 
servant,"  after  beginning  with  protestations  of  eternal  love. 

Finally,  to  finish  the  episode,  comes  Pauline's  cousin,  of 
whom  I  have  spoken,  and  who  at  least  dates  his  letter,  which 
renders  him  estimable  in  the  eyes  of  posterity.  He  has  be- 
come reconciled  with  Beaumarchais'  brother,  and,  while  he 
makes  conditions  for  his  cousin,  he  at  the  same  time  says  no 
more  about  the  innocence  of  the  chevalier,  which  probably 
begins  to  strike  him  as  less  evident. 

"  All  is  finished,  my  dear  Beaumarchais,  and  without  hope  :  I  have 

expressed  your  wishes  to   Madame  G and  Mademoiselle  le 

B ,  and  they  are  as  anxious  as  you  can  be  that  the  affair  should 

be  broken  off  in  a  quiet  manner  :  the  thing  is,  now,  to  regulate  ac- 
counts between  you  and  Mademoiselle  le  B ,  and  make  arrange- 
ments for  repaying  you  the  sum  which  will  remain  due  to  you.    The 

*  The  defense  of  the  fortunate  rival,  in  which  Pauline,  like  a  real 
daughter  of  Eve,  as  she  is,  makes  her  aunt  take  part,  and  speaks  in  the 
plural,  must  have  been  rather  a  diflBcult  morsel  for  Beaumarchais  to 
digest. 

t  Here  Pauline  is  not,  perhaps,  very  sincere  in  screening  herself  be- 
hind Mademoiselle  Perrette.  She  alleges  an  old  infidelity  which  had 
long  since  been  forgiven  ;  at  the  same  time,  she  asks  for  her  letters  of 
that  period  ;  but,  as  they  arc  the  most  interesting,  Beaumarchais  takes 
care  to  forget  to  give  them  back. 


END    OF  THE   KOMAJfCE.  125 

ladies  also  beg  that  you  -will  place  in  my  hands  all  the  papers  you 
have  in  connection  with  Mademoiselle  le  B .  You  can  not  im- 
agine how  distressed  I  am  at  not  having  been  able  to  unite  two  hearts 
which  had  so  long  appeared  to  me  to  be  made  for  one  another ;  but 
man  proposes  and  God  disposes.  I  flatter  myself  that,  on  both  sides, 
the  justice  which  I  think  I  deserve  will  be  rendered  to  me.  I  have 
allowed  you  to  read  my  heart,  and  j'^ou  must  have  seen  that  I  am  a 
stranger  to  all  artifice  and  deception.  Adieu,  my  friend  :  I  shall  go 
to  see  you  as  soon  as  possible  ;  in  the  mean  while,  let  me  hear  from 
you.     1  embrace  you,  and  am  always  your  sincere  friend,  P . 

"Evening  of  Shrove  Tuesday,  February  11,  1T66." 

Let  us  render  this  worthy  cousin,  whose  sentences  are  "  more 
consoling  than  new,"*  the  justice  which  he  claims,  and  let  us 
acknowledge  that  he  had  nothing  to  do  with  the  chevaher's 
perfidy.  At  all  events,  some  months  after  the  letter  was 
written,  while  Julie's  adorer  married  Pauline,  Beaumarchais 
had  the  annoyance  of  seeing  his  former  betrothed  become  Mad- 
ame de  S ,  and  thus  cause  him  the  chagrin  of  which  he 

stood  in  so  much  dread,  and  the  thought  of  which,  as  he  told 
us,  made  all  the  blood  in  his  veim  boil. 

If  we  were  writing  a  novel,  it  would  finish  here,  or  it  would 
end  with  the  death  of  Beaumarchais,  who  would  kill  himself 
in  despair,  or  with  the  death  of  the  chevaher,  who  would  be 
sacrificed  to  the  fury  of  his  rival ;  but,  as  we  are  writing  a 
true  story,  we  are  obliged,  above  every  thing,  to  be  accurate 
in  our  assertions,  and  to  state  that,  instead  of  finishing  with 
a  suicide  or  a  duel,  the  adventure  terminated  more  prosaically 
with  a  settlement  of  accounts,  in  which  the  future  author  of 
the  "  Marriage  of  Figaro"  presents  rather  a  comic  appearance 
in  his  double  character  of  the  lover  who  has  been  deceived, 
and  the  creditor  who  fears  he  will  not  be  paid.  I  have  laid 
so  much  stress  upon  the  cold  and  calculating  side  of  his  at- 
tachment, that  I  feel  myself  bound  to  remind  the  reader  that 
if  he  had  shown  an  excess  of  prudence  as  regarded  his  affec- 
tion, he  had  in  his  friendship  been  generous,  even  to  prodigah- 
ty.  Not  only  had  he  advanced  money  to  the  aunt  and  niece 
without  keeping  any  particular  account  of  it,  but  he  had,  it 
will  be  remembered,  risked  a  rather  heavy  sum  on  the  dilapi- 

*  Bilboquet's  phrase  in  the  burlesque  comedy  of  the  "  Sfvltim- 
banques." — Tkans. 


126  BEArMARCUAIS   AND    HIS   TI3IES. 

dated  estate  in  St.  Domingo ;  this  money  was  now  lost,  and 
the  least  that  could  be  done  by  the  man  who  had  taken  Pau- 
line away  from  him  was  to  put  her  accounts  in  order,  if  he 
did  not  pay  them.  Now  that  he  has  been  sacrificed  as  a  lover, 
Beaumarchais  makes  his  appearance  in  the  character  of  a 
strict  creditor  and  expert  calculator  :  he  puts  the  capital  and 
interest  together,  and  brings  in  a  bill,  which  he  has  drawn  up 
with  the  most  scrupulous  accuracy.  The  chevalier,  who  has 
not  time  to  occupy  himself  with  such  low  details,  and  has 
gone  to  spend  the  honeymoon  somewhere  or  other  with  Pau- 
line, sends  to  Beaumarchais  his  elder  brother,  the  Abbe  de 

S ,  a  highly  respectable  abbe,  but  somewhat  hasty  and 

vexatious,  who  not  only  disputes  Beaumarchais'  bill,  but 
sometimes  allows  himself  to  irritate  a  still  bleeding  wound, 
and  to  mix  up  the  lover  with  the  creditor.  Hence  arose  very 
violent  disputes,  of  which  the  following  letter  from  Beaumar- 
chais to  the  abbe  will  suffice  to  give  some  idea : 

"  Monsieur  I'Abbe, — I  beg  you  to  remember  that  I  have  not  been 
wanting  in  courtesy  toward  you,  and  that  I  owe  nothing  but  contempt 
to  the  person  whom  you  represent,  as  I  have  had  the  honor  of  telling 
you  twenty  times,  and  as  I  should  have  very  much  liked  to  tell  him 
myself,  if  he  had  been  as  punctual  in  making  his  appearance  as  he 
has  been  clever  in  gaining  his  object.     The  proof  that  Mademoiselle 

le  B was  willing  to  accept  me,  my  affection,  my  advice,  my 

money,  is  that,  without  your  brother,  who  disturbed  a  union  which 
had  existed  for  six  years,  she  would  still  be  availing  herself  of  all  the 
services  which  I  lavished  upon  her,  as  long  as  they  were  agreeable 
and  useful  to  her.  It  is  true  that  she  has  purchased  these  services 
very  dearly,  for  it  is  to  our  friendship  for  your  brother  that  she  owes 
the  happiness  of  having  married  him,  which  would  not  have  been 
the  case  if  he  had  remained,  without  knowing  us,  in  the  place  where 
he  was  then  vegetating.  I  am  not  in  the  secret  of  the  expression 
apology ;  accordingly,  I  must  be  excused  from  replying  to  it,  and  if  I 
regret  his  absence,  it  is  because  I  should  do  myself  the  pleasure  on 
every  occasion  of  telling  him  myself  what  he  can  now  hear  through 
a  third  person  only.  I  shall  not  discontinue,  by  conferring  benefits, 
to  prepare  myself  for  acts  of  injustice  and  atrocity.  I  have  never 
suffered  much  from  doing  good  in  expectation  of  evil,  and  your  ad- 
vice will  add  nothing  to  my  present  inclinations  in  that  respect. 

"  As  you  confess  that  you  lose  your  temper  with  me,  it  would  ill 
suit  me  to  address  any  reproaches  to  you  on  the  subject.     It  is  suf- 


END    OF   THE   KOMA>-CE.  127 

ficient  that  you  should  accuse  yourself  for  me  to  retain  no  feeling  of 
resentment  toward  you. 

"  I  do  not  know  why  you  underline  the  words  '  your  sister,'  when 

you  remind  rae  that  it  was  as  such  that  I  loved  Mademoiselle  B . 

Does  this  sarcasm  fall  upon  her,  upon  me,  or  upon  your  brother  ? 

This,  however,  as  you  please.     Although  Mademoiselle  B 's  fate 

no  longer  concerns  me,  it  would  not  become  me,  in  speaking  of  her, 
to  make  use  of  any  expressions  but  those  which  I  have  employed. 
I  do  not  complain  of  her.*  She  is,  as  you  say,  young  and  without 
experience ;  and,  although  she  has  very  little  property,  your  brother 
OSes  his  experience  advantageously  in  marrying  her,  and  has  indeed 
made  a  very  good  thing  of  it. 

"  Remember,  once  more,  M.  I'Abbe,  that  nothing  I  say  about  him 
at  all  applies  to  you.  It  would  be  too  humiliating  for  a  man  of  your 
cloth  to  be  suspected  of  having  had  any  thing  to  do  with  your  broth- 
er's conduct  toward  me :  let  him  ha.ve  all  the  blame  himself,  and  do 
not  take  up  things  which  are  not  entitled  to  so  polite  an  advocate  as 
yourself. 

"  I  hare  the  honor  to  be,  &c.,  Beaumabchais.'' 

To  put  an  end  to  these  irritating  debates,  Beaumarchais 
made  a  considerable  diminution  in  bis  claim,  wbich  was  at 
last  accepted  at  24,441  livres,  4  sous,  4  deniers. 

And  now  the  shade  of  the  charming  Pauline  must  excuse 
me,  but  it  appears  certain  that  this  claim,  accepted  and  ac- 
knowledged by  her,  was  never  paid.  Not  only  do  I  find  it, 
among  other  papers  of  a  later  date,  classed  with  the  debts 
which  are  looked  upon  as  almost  hopeless,  but  the  touching 
solicitude  of  Gudin,  the  cashier,  after  the  death  of  his  mas- 
ter, for  the  shortest  love-letter  from  Pauline,  is  sufficient  to 
show  that  this  debt  must  be  ranked  with  the  "acknowledg- 
ments not  acted  upon,"  traces  of  which  are  to  be  found  in 
Beaumarchais'  papers,  from  rather  a  large  number  of  agree- 
able women,  poets,  and  noble  lords.  It  must  be  stated  that 
Pauline  became  a  widow  about  a  year  after  her  marriage, 
so  that  this  calamity  probably  interfered  with  the  arrange- 
ment of  her  affairs.  The  latest  souvenir  of  Pauline  I  can  find 
in  the  packet  of  letters  is  in  a  letter  addressed  to  her  cousin, 
bearing  the  date  of  1769,  in  which  she  says,  with  regard  to 
Beaumarchais,  "Let  him  rest  in  peace ;  he  will  be  paid."    This 

*  Here,  again,  is  an  instance  of  that  kind  and  delicate  feeling  which 
Beaumarchais  often  exhibits,  and  which  ought  to  be  observed. 


128  BEAUMARCHAIS   AND    HIS   TDIES. 

is  rather  cool  in  reference  to  a  man  one  has  loved  a  few  mo- 
ments for  life.  Did  Pauline  happen  to  think  that  her  love, 
after  all,  was  worth  24,441  livres,  4  sous,  4  deniers  ?  It  would 
be  impossible  to  deny  it;  but,  as  such  an  hypothesis  might 
give  to  certain  very  demonstrative  letters  a  meaning  which  we 
need  not  look  for  in  them,  I  hasten  to  put  it  aside  as  hastily 
formed,  and  I  conclude  that,  if  the  young  and  beautiful  Creole 
left  the  debt  standing,  it  was  in  consequence  of  her  St.  Domin- 
go estate  being  laid  hold  of  by  other  creditors,  or  plundered  by 
the  blacks,  or  swallowed  up  by  an  earthquake. 

Such  is  the  exact  story  of  the  little  drama  in  real  life,  un- 
der the  influence  of  which  Beaumarchais  studied  the  art  of 
writing  dramas  for  the  stage;  for  we  are  now  in  1767,  the 
year  in  which  he  made  his  first  appearance  in  theatrical  and 
literary  life  as  the  author  of  "  Eugenie." 


CHAPTER  Vn. 

Beaumarchais'  first  Dramas. — ^Eugenie. — ^The  Two  Friends. — His  sec- 
ond Marriage. 

We  have  now  reached  the  moment  at  which  Beaumarchais 
enters  upon  his  literary  career — in  1767,  at  thirty-five  years 
of  age,  after  he  had  had  an  experience  of  life  in  all  its  aspects. 
He  was  at  this  time  convinced,  wrongly  enough,  that  liis  ca- 
pabilities fitted  him  for  the  serious  style,  of  which  he  writes  a 
theory  in  the  preface  to  the  drama  of  "  Eugenie."  This  the- 
ory is,  for  the  most  pai*t,  borrowed  from  that  of  Diderot,  for 
whom  the  author  of  "  Eugenie"  professes  the  most  lively  ad- 
miration. It  is  couched  in  a  style  both  less  warm  and  less 
correct  than  that  of  Diderot,  but  with  more  precision^  clear- 
ness, and  method.  He  makes  the  principal  points  more  evi- 
dent, without  adopting  the  too  subtle  distinctions  between  the 
four  dramatic  styles  as  laid  down  by  his  master.  Beaumar- 
chais advocates  strongly  the  introduction  of  serious  drama, 
"which,"  he  says,  "is  a  middle  point  between  heroic  tragedy 
and  amusing  comedy."     He  was,  I  think,  the  first  of  the  dra- 


Diderot's  dramas.  129 

matic  writei-s  of  the  period  who  called  his  piece  a  drama.* 
The  drama,  according  to  him,  should  be  written  in  prose ;  its 
objects  should  be  the  representation  of  situations  taken  from 
common  life ;  "  the  dialogue  should  be  simple,  and  as  natural 
as  possible ;  real  eloquence  must  be  that  which  springs  from 
situations,  and  the  only  coloring  which  can  be  allowed  to  it  is 
the  animated,  hurried,  broken,  agitated,  and  true  language  of 
the  passions." 

It  is  1767 ;  Beaumarchais  is  completely  unknown  as  a 
writer;  he  is  a  man  of  business  and  of  pleasure,  who  has 
managed  to  push  himself  forward  at  court,  who  is  spoken  of 
in  various  ways,  and  whom  the  men  of  letters  are  disposed  to 
receive  as  the  courtiers  received  him,  that  is  to  say,  as  an  in- 
truder. Hence  it  was  necessary  for  him  to  excite  the  public 
curiosity,  to  nurture  it,  and  to  look  for  followers  and  support- 
ers in  every  rank ;  this  he  does  with  all  that  facility  and 
diversity  of  talent  which  distinguish  him ;  when,  for  instance, 
he  wishes  to  read  his  drama  to  the  princesses,  he  assumes  the 
character  of  a  courtier  who  condescends  to  occupy  himself 
with  literature  in  the  interest  of  virtue  and  morals ;  he  attrib- 
utes to  himself,  beforehand,  a  celebrity  which  he  has  not  ob- 
tained, and  altogether  exhibits  extraordinary  presumption. 

"  Mesdames, — The  French  company  are  going  to  represent,  in  a 
few  days,  a  theatrical  piece  of  a  new  description,  for  which  the  whole 
of  Paris  is  looking  out  with  the  most  lively  impatience.  In  spite  of 
the  orders  which  I  gave  to  the  actors,  on  making  them  a  present  of 
the  piece,  to  keep  the  name  of  the  author  a  profound  secret,  they 
have  thought,  in  their  misplaced  enthusiasm,  to  render  me  a  service 
by  neglecting  my  instructions,  and  have  quietly  divulged  my  name 
to  all  the  world.  As  this  work,  the  offspring  of  my  emotions,  breathes 
the  most  ardent  love  of  virtue,  and  tends  to  purify  our  theatre  by 
making  it  a  school  of  good  morals,  I  thought,  before  making  it  further 
known  to  the  public,  I  was  bound  to  offer  it  as  a  secret  homage  to  my 
illustrious  patronesses.  Accordingly,  Mesdames,  I  beg  to  be  allowed 
to  read  it  to  you  in  private.  After  that,  when  the  public,  at  the  rep- 
resentation, will  exalt  me  to  the  clouds,  the  greatest  success  of  my 
drama  will  be  that  of  having  been  honored  by  your  tears,  as  its  author 
has  always  been  by  your  benefits." 

*  The  two  dramas  by  Diderot,  and  the  one  by  Sedaine,  were  still 
called  comedies. 

F2 


130  BEAUMAECHAIS  AND    HIS    TIMES. 

The  piece  was  played  on  the  29th  of  January,  1769,  and 
was  well  received.  It  met  with  severity,  however,  from  the 
critics  of  the  day. 

The  author  of  "Eugenie,"  however,  had  no  occasion  to 
distress  himself  either  about  Grimm's  "  Correspondence,"  or 
Bachaumont's  "  Nouvelles,"  as  neither  of  these  sheets  were 
public ;  but  he  was  much  annoyed  by  Freron's  "  Annee  Lit- 
teraire,"  the  opinions  of  which  exercised  a  great  influence, 
while  its  severity  frightened  him.  Freron  had  as  yet  written 
nothing  about  the  piece,  when  Beaumarchais  took  an  oppor- 
tunity (not  without  going  a  long  way  to  find  it)  of  getting  at 
the  formidable  critic,  and  addressed  a  letter  to  him,  the  modesty 
of  which,  when  compared  with  that  of  his  letter  to  Mesdames 
de  France,  which  we  have  previously  given,  will  help  to  give 
some  notion  of  the  diversity  of  his  manner. 

"  I  do  not  think  I  have  the  honor  of  being  personally  known  to 
you,  which  makes  me  still  more  impressed  by  the  kind  things  repeat- 
ed to  me  yesterday  evening.  A  person  of  my  acquaintance,  who 
met  you  in  society,  assured  me  it  was  impossible  to  speak  with  more 
moderation  than  you  did  of  certain  parts  which  appeared  reprehensi- 
ble to  you  in  the  drama  of '  Eugenie,'  or  to  praise  with  a  more  esti- 
mable frankness  those  which  you  thought  calculated  to  interest  right- 
minded  people.  In  this  way  judicious  and  severe  criticism  becomes 
very  useful  to  writers.  If  your  occupations  permit  you  to  see  the 
piece  again  to-night,  now  that  I  have  taken  out  certain  portions, 
which,  in  my  limited  acquaintance  with  the  stage,  I  had  at  first  con- 
sidered good,  I  beg  that  you  will  do  so  by  means  of  this  ticket  for  the 
amphitheatre.  When  you  have  seen  it  a  second  time,  I  will  beg  your 
permission  to  caU  and  have  some  talk  with  you  about  it.  In  the 
mean  while,  be  assured  of  the  high  consideration  and  gratitude  with 
which  I  have  the  honor  to  be,  sir,  &c., 

"  Caron  de  Beaumarchais." 

Now  comes  the  answer  of  the  austere  Freron. 

"Saturday,  Feb.  7,  ITCT. 
"  I  am  very  sensible,  sir,  of  your  politeness,  and  very  sorry  I  can 
not  profit  by  it ;  but  I  never  go  to  the  play  with  tickets.     Do  not  be 
offended  at  my  sending  you  back  the  one  you  have  done  me  the 
honor  to  address  to  me.* 

*  Do  not  this  offer  of  a  ticket,  and  Freron's  refusal  of  it,  seem  to  in- 
dicate that,  at  this  period,  professional  critics  made  it  a  point  of  honor 
to  pay  for  their  places  at  the  theatre  ?  I  content  myself  with  putting 
this  insignificant  question,  not  having  the  means  of  answering  it  at  hand. 


"the  two  fkiends."  131 

"  As  for  your  drama,  I  am  delighted  you  are  pleased  at  what  I 
said  of  it ;  but  I  will  not  conceal  from  you  that  I  thought  and  said 
more  against  than  in  favor  of  it,  after  the  first  representation,  the 
only  one  I  have  seen.  I  have  no  doubt  that  the  excisions  which  had 
to  be  made,  and  which  you  have  made  in  this  work,  have  improved  it. 
The  success  which  it  meets  with  at  present  makes  me  presume  so. 
I  propose  to  go  and  see  it  next  week,  and  I  shall  be  very  pleased,  I 
can  assure  you,  sir,  to  join  my  approbation  to  that  of  the  public. 

"  I  have  the  honor  to  be,  with  the  highest  consideration,  &c. 

"  Freron." 

It  is  evident  that  the  austere  Freron  is  determined  to  pre- 
serve his  liberty  of  criticism  unshackled ;  we  find  it  in  that 
condition  in  his  account  of  "Eugenie,"  which  is  severe,  but 
conscientious  and  judicious. 

This  first  success  was  altogether  sufficiently  flattering  to  en- 
courage Beaumarchais  to  persist  in  a  course  which  was  not 
precisely  one  for  which  he  was  fitted  by  nature. .  Happily  for 
him,  his  second  attempt  was  a  failure,  and  diverted  his  atten- 
tion for  a  time  from  the  "  serious  style."  This  second  drama 
of  his  was  also  inspired  by  an  idea  of  Diderot,  to  this  effect : 
that  the  representation  of  social  situations  should  be  substi- 
tuted for  the  representation  of  character,  and  that  all  social 
situations  are  almost  equally  available  for  dramatic  purposes. 
According  to  this  erroneous  principle,  Beaumarchais  conceived 
the  notion  of  two  friends  living  together,  one  of  whom,  M^ac, 
was  a  receiver  of  taxes;  the  other,  Aurelly,  being  a  Lyons 
merchant.  Aurelly  has  to  take  up  a  bill,  for  which  he  is  ex- 
pecting funds  from  Paris ;  Melac,  who  hears  that  the  desired 
funds  are  not  forthcoming,  and  who  sees  that  his  friend  may 
have  to  suspend  payment,  takes  all  the  money  which  has  been 
paid  to  him  as  receiver  of  taxes,  and  places  it  in  Aurelly's 
cash-box  without  the  knowledge  of  the  latter,  who  is  made 
to  believe  that  these  are  the  funds  he  was  expecting  from 
Paris.  At  this  juncture  appears  a  farmer-general,  who  is 
going  his  rounds,  and  calls  upon  Melac  for  his  receipts. 
Throughout  two  acts,  the  latter  persists  in  passing  for  a 
thief  who  has  made  away  with  the  funds  intrusted  to  him ; 
and  as  the  honest  Aurelly  is  ignorant  that  the  money  which 
had  been  intrusted  to  Melac  is  in  his  cash-box,  he  unites  with 
the  farmer-general  to  overwhelm  h}^  heroic  friend  with  re- 


132  BEAUMARCHAIS   AND    HIS   TIMES. 

proaches,  until  at  last  all  is  discovered,  and  the  farmer-gen- 
eral, an  impressionable  and  romantic  man,  undertakes  to  ar- 
range every  thing. 

It  was  in  vain  that,  by  way  of  softening  the  harshness  of 
such  a  subject,  Beaumarchais  introduced  the  somewhat  grace- 
ful episode  of  the  loves  of  Pauline  and  Blelac's  son ;  a  few 
brilliant  and  pathetic  scenes  could  not  save  this  too  commer- 
cial drama  of  "  The  Two  Friends."  Played  for  the  first  time 
January  13,  1770,  it  lingered  until  the  tenth  representation, 
which  was  the  last.  As  the  author  had,  to  use  his  own  ex- 
pression, the  advantage  over  "  his  unfortunate  brothers  of  the 
pen"  of  being  able  to  go  to  the  theatre  in  a  carriage,  and 
made,  perhaps,  too  great  a  parade  of  this  advantage,  the  re- 
sult was  that  his  failure  was  received  with  a  great  many 
jokes.  It  was  said  that,  at  the  end  of  the  first  representation, 
a  wag  in  the  pit  cried  out,  "This  is  all  an  affair  of  bank- 
ruptcy ;  I  am  down  for  my  twenty  sous."  Some  days  after- 
ward, Beaumarchais  having  had  the  imprudence  to  say  to 
Sophie  Arnould,  in  reference  to  an  opera  called  "Zoroaster," 
which  was  not  successful,  "  In  a  week  you  will  have  no  one, 
or  nearly  so,"  the  witty  actress  replied  to  him,  "  Your  '  Friends' 
will  bring  us  some."  To  conclude,  the  capital  defect  of  "  The 
Two  Friends"  was  summed  up  in  this  quatrain  of  the  period, 
cited  by  Grimm : 

"  I've  seen  Beaumarchais'  piece  :  it's  so  absurd, 
I'll  tell  you  all  about  it  in  a  word. 
While  capital  is  worked  in  every  way, 
There's  naught  like  interest  throughout  the  play." 

However,  in  January,  1770,  Beaumarchais  could  easily  con- 
sole himself  for  the  failure  of  a  drama ;  he  was  rich,  busy,  and 
happy.  Between  the  production  of  "Euge'nie"  and  that  of 
"  The  Two  Friends,"  he  had  contrived  to  make  himself  loved 
by  the  young  and  beautiful  widow  of  a  garde-gene'ral  named 
LcvSque;  and  in  April,  1768,  he  married  this  Madame  Le- 
veque,  formerly  Genevieve  Madeleine  "Watebled,  who  brought 
him  a  brilliant  fortune.  "With  the  co-operation  of  Paris  du 
Verney,  he  purchased  from  the  state  a  large  portion  of  the 
Forest  of  Chinon,  out  of  which  he  made  money ;  and  he  was 


BEACMAKCIIAIS   BUSTICATIKG.  133 

still  more  occupied  in  selling  wood*  than  in  -writing  dramas. 
In  a  letter  of  this  period,  dated  from  a  village  in  Touraine,  he 
appears  to  us  as  a  dealer  in  wood,  intelligent,  active,  fond  of 
scenery,  and  Avith  a  touch  of  rural  poetry  which  one  would 
scarcely  expect  to  find  in  him ;  for  his  works,  which  are  all 
redolent  of  the  air  of  Paris,  do  not  oflfer  the  least  trace  of  such 
a  sentiment.     The  letter  is  addressed  to  his  second  wife. 

"  You  request  me  to  write  to  you,  my  dear  love.  I  will  do  so  with 
all  my  heart ;  it  will  be  most  agreeable  recreation,  after  the  labor  I 
have  been  forced  to  undergo  during  my  stay  in  this  village.  Misun- 
derstandings between  directors,  who  had  to  be  reconciled ;  complaints 
and  petitions  which  had  to  be  attended  to  from  clerks ;  an  account  to 
go  over  of  more  than  100,000  crowns,  broken  up  into  claims  of  20 
and  30  sous,  and  from  which  the  cashier,  who  is  liable  for  it,  must 
be  relieved ;  the  different  harbors  to  visit ;  to  see  200  of  the  work- 
men in  the  forest,  and  examine  their  work ;  to  arrange  the  prepara- 
tion and  transport  of  280  acres  of  wood,  which  is  already  cut ;  to  con- 
struct new  roads  from  the  forest  to  the  river,  and  repair  the  old  ones ; 
to  stow  away  three  or  four  hundred  thousand  measures  of  hay ;  to 
get  a  provision  of  oats  for  tliirty  dray-horses ;  to  buy  thirty  more 
horses  for  six  more  wagons,  in  order  to  take  away  all  our  wood  for 
the  navy  before  winter ;  gates  and  sluices  to  construct  on  the  River 
Indre,  so  as  to  provide  us  with  water  during  the  whole  year,  in  the 
place  where  the  wood  is  embarked ;  50  barges  waiting  for  their  car- 
goes to  start  off  for  Tours,  Saumur,  Angers,  and  Nantes ;  to  sign 
the  leases  for  seven  or  eight  farms,  which  altogether  supply  the  pro- 
visions of  a  household  of  thirty  persons ;  the  general  account  of  our 
receipts  and  disbursements  during  two  years  to  regulate.  Such,  my 
dear  wife,  is  briefly  the  amount  of  my  labors,  a  portion  of  which  I 
have  terminated,  while  I  am  getting  on  with  the  rest." 

After  two  more  pages  of  similar  details,  Beaumarchais  con- 
cludes with  this  graceful  and  animated  picture  of  rural  life  :\ 

"  You  see,  my  dear  love,  we  do  not  sleep  here  so  much  as  at  Pan- 
tin  ;  but  the  active  work  to  which  I  am  forced  does  not  displease  me. 
Since  arriving  in  this  retreat,  inaccessible  as  it  is  to  vanity,  I  have 
seen  none  but  natural,  simple-minded  persons,  such  as  I  often  wish  to 
be  myself  I  live  in  my  oflices,  which  I  have  established  in  a  good 
countrified  farm,  between  the  poultry-yard  and  the  kitchen  garden, 

*  La  Harpe  was  completely  deceived  when  he  stated  generally  that 
"this  speculation  in  wood  could  not  be  carried  out."  Beaumarchais 
sold  the  wood  of  the  Forest  of  Chinon  for  many  years. 

t  His  wife  was  at  this  time  installed  in  a  country-house  at  Pantin. 


134  DEAUMAKCHAIS    AND    HIS   TIMES. 

and  surrounded  by  a  green  hedge.  My  bed-room,  which  has  no  up- 
holstery beyond  the  whitewash  on  the  walls,  is  furnished  with  an  in- 
different bed,  in  which  I  sleep  like  a  top  ;  four  rush-bottomed  chairs, 
an  oaken  table,  a  large  fireplace  without  mantelpiece  or  any  thing 
else ;  but  from  the  window,  ^s  I  write  to  you,  I  see  all  the  meadows 
and  plains  of  the  valley  which  I  inhabit  filled  with  robust  men  of 
bronzed  complexion,  who  are  cutting  and  carrying  off  fodder  with 
their  teams  of  oxen  ;  a  multitude  of  women  and  girls,  with  rakes  on 
their  shoulders  or  in  their  hands,  are  filling  the  air  as  they  work  with 
their  lively  songs,  which  I  hear  from  my  table ;  through  the  trees  in 
the  distance  I  see  the  winding  stream  of  the  Indre,  and  an  ancient 
chateau  flanked  by  its  towers,  which  belongs  to  my  neighbor,  Madame 
de  Roncee.  The  whole  scene  is  crowned  by  the  tufted  summits  of 
the  trees,  which  increase  in  number  until  they  are  lost  on  the  crests 
of  the  heights  which  surround  us,  so  that  they  form  a  large  spheric- 
al framework  round  the  horizon,  which  they  shut  out  on  all  sides. 
This  picture  is  not  without  its  charms.  Coarse,  wholesome  bread, 
dishes  which  are  more  than  simple,  with  execrable  wine,  form  my 
diet.  Really,  if  I  could  venture  to  wish  you  such  a  misfortune  as  to 
be  in  want  of  every  thing  in  a  desolate  country,  I  should  regret  ex- 
ceedingly not  to  have  you  with  me.  Adieu,  my  love.  If  you  think 
these  details  can  amuse  our  good  friends  and  relations,  I  leave  you  at 
liberty  to  read  them  together  one  evening  by  yourselves.  Kiss  them 
all  into  the  bargain  ;  and  now  good-night ;  I  am  going  to  bed.  But 
my  son,  my  son,  how  is  he  ?  I  laugh  when  I  think  I  am  working  for 
him." 

The  kind  and  affectionate  nature  which  is  exhibited  in  this 
letter  was  soon  put  to  a  severe  test.  "When  he  had  been 
married  less  than  three  years,  Beaumarchais  lost  his  second 
wife,  who  died  on  the  21st  November,  1770,  after  childbirth. 
Calumniators  did  not  fail  to  say  that  there  was  something 
strange  in  his  thus  losing  his  second  wife,  and  that  it  tended 
to  confirm  the  rumors  which  had  been  circulated  as  to  the 
death  of  the  first.  There  was  certainly  one  little  difiiculty 
about  the  hypothesis :  at  least  half  the  fortune  of  his  second 
wife  consisted  in  an  annuity.  Beaumarchais  bad  thus  the 
greatest  interest  in  her  life ;  besides,  she  left  him  a  child ;  but 
these  foul  anecdote-mongers  were  not  so  particular-  as  to  de- 
tails. However,  when  the  son  himself  died  tWo  years  after  his 
mother,  October  17,  1772,  the  calumniators  were  afraid  to  be 
logical ;  they  did  not  think,  says  La  Harpe,  of  insinuating  that 
he  had  also  poisoned  his  child. 


BEAUJIAECHAIS   AND    HIS    LAWSUITS.  135 

Such,  then,  was  the  situation  of  Beaumarchais  in  1771.  As 
a  private  individual,  he  had  once  more  passed  from  opulence  to 
a  position  which  was  far  from  being  brilliant ;  as  a  writer,  he 
had  not  yet  attained  reputation.  The  flattering  though  ephem- 
eral success  of  his  first  drama  had  been  effaced  by  the  failure 
of  the  second.  The  great  body  of  the  public  only  considered 
him  as  a  sentimental  and  ponderous  dramatist  of  the  Diderot 
school ;  no  one  yet  saw  in  him  the  future  author  of  the  "Bar- 
ber of  Seville ;"  and  the  following  account,  which  Palissot  gave 
of  him  in  a  satire  of  the  period,  was  thought  to  be  true  enough: 

"  Beaumarchais,  too  obscure  to  be  interesting, 
Of  Diderot,  his  God,  is  the  powerless  ape."* 

Just  then  a  lawsuit,  which  seemed  calculated  to  have  no 
other  result  than  that  of  dishonoring  and  ruining  him,  was  the 
origin  of  another  which  appeared  destined  to  crush  him  com- 
pletely, and  the  effect  of  which  was  to  exhibit  all  the  comic 
power  which  nature  had  gifted  him  jvith,  to  replace  him  on 
the  road  to  an  immense  fortune,  and  to  make  him  for  a  time 
the  most  celebrated  and  popular  man  of  his  country  and  age. 


CHAPTER  Vni. 

Beaumarchais  and  his  Lawsuits. — The  Count  de  la  Blache. — An  ingen- 
ious Advocate. — The  disputed  Document. — Death  of  Beaumarchais' 
second  Wife. — An  Indiscretion. — The  "Barber  of  Seville." 

The  first  of  the  great  lawsuits,  which  were  destined  to  give 
a  new  course  to  Beaumarchais'  life,  lasted  seven  years.  In 
the  first  place  won,  then  lost,  and  afterward  won  again,  it 
placed  the  author  of  "  Eugenie"  in  a  position  to  suffer  fi'om  all 
kinds  of  enmity  and  persecution.  The  famous  action  against 
Goezraan  arose  out  of  this  grave  affair,  the  circumstances  of 
which  have  hitherto  been  somewhat  incorrectly  narrated.  It 
is  desirable  to  give  the  true  facts  of  the  case,  to  show  that  it 
was  not  simply  an  affair  of  money,  as  La  Harpe  states,  and  to 
explain  why  the  Prince  de  Conti  said,  not  •without  reason,  in 
reference  to  the  contest,  "Beaumarchais  must  be  either  paid 

*  "  Beaumarchais,  trop  obscur  pour  etre  interessant, 

Do  son  dieu  Diderot  est  le  singe  impaissant." 


136  BEAUMAECHAIS    AKD    HIS   TIMES. 

or  hanged,"  which  made  Beaumarchais  reply:  "But  if  I  gain 
my  suit,  do  you  not  think  that  my  adversary  ought  to  pay 
cordially  himself?"  The  reader  remembers  how  old  Paris  du 
Verney,  ex-commissary-general,  founder  and  director  of  the 
Military  School,  had  become  attached  to  the  protege  of  the 
princesses,  had  advised  him,  assisted  him  in  making  his  way 
at  court  by  lending  him  money  to  buy  appointments,  and  had 
given  him  a  share  in  various  commercial  operations,  so  as  to 
enable  him  to  pay  back  the  money  he  had  lent  him.  Owing 
to  this  connection,  both  in  friendship  and  business,  which  lasted 
ten  years,  during  which  period  Beaumarchais  was  often  in- 
trusted by  Du  Verney  with  important  negotiations,  and  which 
finally  brought  about  the  partnership  into  which  they  entered, 
with  a  view  of  purchasing  the  Forest  of  Chinon,  large  sums  of 
money  had  passed  between  them,  of  which  no  account  had 
been  drawn  up  in  a  regular  manner.  Beaumarchais,  in  con- 
sequence of  the  great  age  of  Du  Verney,  and  fearing  to  be  in- 
volved in  a  lawsuit  with  his  heirs,  on  several  occasions  asked 
him,  in  a  very  pressing  manner,  to  go  over  the  accounts.  He 
did  so  at  last,  on  the  first  of  April,  1770,  by  means  of  a  dupli- 
cate document,  sealed  on  each  side,  by  which,  after  a  long 
enumeration  of  the  debtor  and  creditor  accounts  of  each  of 
the  contracting  parties,  Beavunarchais  restored  to  Du  Verney 
160,000  francs  in  his  own  bills,  and  agreed  to  the  dissolution 
of  their  partnership  in  the  Forest  of  Chinon.  On  his  part,  Du 
Verney  declared  that  Beaumarchais  owed  him  nothing,  ac- 
knowledged himself  his  debtor  to  the  amount  of  15, 000  francs, 
payable  to  him  on  demand,  and  bound  himself  to  lend  him  the 
sum  of  75,000  francs  for  eight  years,  without  interest.  These 
two  clauses  had  not  yet  been  fulfilled  when  Du  Verney  died, 
July  17,  1770,  at  87  years  of  age,  leaving  a  fortune  of  about 
1,500,000  francs.  Having  no  relations  but  nephews  and  grand- 
nephews,  he  had  chosen  for  his  sole  legatee  one  of  his  grand- 
nephews  by  the  female  side,  who  had  been  brought  up  under 
his  care,  and  who,  through  his  interest,  had  become  Marechal- 
de-Camp.  This  was  the  Count  de  la  Blache.  The  Count  de 
la  Blache  had  long  said  of  Beaumarchais,  "  I  hate  this  man 
as  a  lover  loves  his  mistress."  La  Harpe,  who  was  not  well 
acquainted  vdth  the  facts,  appears  to  have  been  astonished  at 


THE   COUNT   DE   I.A    BLACHE.  137 

this  hatred,  and  brings  it  forward  as  one  of  the  singular  things 
in  Beaumarchais'  life.  There  was,  howevei",  nothing  singular 
about  it ;  first  of  all,  it  was  natural  enough  that  an  heir  pre- 
sumptive should  not  have  any  great  fancy  for  a  person  who 
had  received  and  might  still  receive  benefits  from  an  old  man 
whose  fortune  he  looked  upon  as  his  own.  In  the  next  place, 
the  Count  de  la  Blache  had  private  motives  for  disliking 
Beaumarchais.  Beaumarchais  was  very  intimate  with  another 
nephew  of  Paris  du  Vemey's  by  the  male  side,  M.  Paris  de 
Meyzieu,  a  distinguished  man,  who  had  aided  his  uncle  mate- 
rially in  founding  the  Ecole  Militaire,  but  who  was  not  so 
clever  in  the  art,  so  difiicult  and  painful  to  noble  dispositions, 
of  securing  an  inheritance,  and  retired  from  all  contest,  allow- 
ing himself  to  be  sacrificed  to  a  more  distant  relation.  Beau- 
marchais, considering  this  unfair,  had  never  ceased  to  combat 
the  weakness  of  his  old  friend  Du  Verney,  and  to  take  the 
part  of  M.  de  Meyzieu  with  a  frankness  and  activity  which 
are  proved  by  his  letters,  from  which  I  will  only  quote  one 
fragment,  written  in  reference  to  the  settlement  of  the  accounts 
in  question. 

"  I  can  not  bear  the  idea,"  he  writes  to  Da  Vemey,  March  9, 1770, 
"  of  being  placed,  in  case  of  your  death,  in  relation  with  M.  le  Comte 
de  la  Blache,  whom  I  respect  with  all  my  heart,  but  who,  since  I  have 
met  him  at  Madame  d'Hauteville's  house,  has  never  done  me  the  hon- 
or to  bow  to  me.  You  make  him  your  heir  :  I  have  nothing  to  say 
about  that  ;but  if,  in  case  of  the  greatest  misfortune  which  could  hap- 
pen to  me,  I  am  to  be  his  debtor,  I  must  decline  any  arrangement ; 
I  shall  not  dissolve  the  partnership.  Put  me  in  a  position  to  act  with 
my  friend  Meyzieu,  who  is  a  gallant  and  honorable  man,  and  to  whom, 
my  dear  friend,  you  have  long  owed  some  reparation.  An  uncle  does 
not  offer  apologies  to  his  nephew,  but  acts  of  kindness,  and  above  all 
of  assistance,  when  he  feels  that  he  has  acted  wrongly  toward  him. 
I  have  never  disguised  from  him  my  opinion  on  the  subject.  Let  r:3 
be  accountable  to  him.  This  souvenir,  which  you  Avill  leave  liim 
when  he  leasts  expects  it,  will  fill  his  heart  with  a  gratitude  worthy 
of  such  a  favor.  To  conclude,  this  is  all  I  can  say  :  you,  or  in  de- 
fault of  you,  Meyzieu,  or  no  dissolution  of  partnership.*  I  have  other 
reasons  for  laying  a  stress  upon  this  point,  but  I  will  communicate 

*  Referring  to  Du  Vemey's  wish  to  dissolve  the  partnership  in  refer- 
ence to  the  Forest  of  Chinon,  to  which  Beaumarchais  gave  his  consent, 
but  only  on  certain  conditions. 


138  BEAUMAKCHAIS    AXD    HIS   TIMES. 

them  to  you  orally.     When  shall  we  see  one  another  1  for  I  give  you 
notice  that  until  then  I  shall  do  nothing  in  the  matter." 

It  will  be  easily  understood  that  Beaumarcliais'  partiality 
for  the  rejected  nephew  was  little  calculated  to  gain  the  friend- 
ship of  the  favored  one.  The  Count  de  la  Blache  detested 
him,  then,  cordially ;  and  when,  after  the  death  of  Du  Vemey, 
Beaumarchais  sent  his  settlement  of  accounts  to  him,  and  sum- 
moned him  to  act  upon  the  document,  he  replied  that  he  did 
not  recognize  his  uncle's  signature,  and  that  he  looked  upon 
the  document  as  a  forgery.  When  challenged  to  make  an  ac- 
cusation of  forgery,  by  way  of  avoiding  the  consequences  of  a 
failure  in  so  dangerous  an  action,  he  declared  that  he  reserved 
to  himself  the  right  of  taking  this  step,  and,  in  the  mean  while, 
called  upon  the  tribunals  to  annul  the  statement  of  accounts, 
as  containing  internal  evidence  of  fraud,  so  that  Beaumarchais 
found  himself  taken  in  the  meshes  of  the  most  odious  snare ; 
for,  while  he  dared  not  accuse  him  openly  of  forgery,  the  Count 
de  la  Blache  continued  to  plead  indirectly  the  commission  of 
the  act ;  and  yet,  after  the  question  had  been  argued  with  all 
the  stigma  attached  to  it,  he  wished  to  turn  against  Beaumar- 
chais the  very  deed  he  declared  to  be  forged.  Then,  not  satis- 
fied with  claiming  from  him  the  payment  of  53,500  livres  of 
debts,  which  were  marked  down  in  Du  Verney's  papers,  and 
annulled  by  the  said  statement  of  accounts — since,  in  the  state- 
ment of  accounts,  Beaumarchais  earned  to  Du  Verney's  ac- 
count not  53,500  livres,  but  139,000  livres,  an  increase  which 
was  compensated  for  by  a  more  considerable  one  upon  Du 
Vemey — his  adversary  demanded,  with  naivete,  that  the  pre- 
tended forgery  should  only  have  the  effect  of  annulling  Beau- 
marchais' claim  on  Du  Verney,  while  it  left  intact  the  entire 
claim  of  139,000  livres  of  Du  Vemey  upon  Beaumarchais, 
which  could  only  be  allowed  on  the  supposition  that  the  state- 
ment of  accounts  was  genuine.  Hence  it  followed  that  Beau- 
marchais, instead  of  receiving  15,000  livres,  which  the  docu- 
ment in  question  entitled  him  to,  would  have  to  pay  139,000 
livres,  from  Which  it  liberated  him.  ''Thus,"  said  Maitre 
Caillard,  the  very  ingenious  and  very  insulting  advocate  select- 
ed by  thq  Count  de  la  Blache,  *'  thus  justice  will  be  avenged, 
and  honest  citizens  will  be  satisfied,  when  they  see  such  an  ad- 


AN   IKGENIOrS   ADVOCATE.  139 

versary  taken  in  his  own  snares."  This  civil  way  of  taking 
advantage  of  a  document  declared  to  be  a  foi^eiy,  and  trans- 
forming a  claim  of  53,500  francs  into  a  debt  of  139,000  francs, 
already  seems  to  indicate  more  ingenuity  than  good  faith  on 
the  part  of  Du  Vemey's  legatee,  or  at  least  on  that  of  his  coun- 
sel. But,  as  I  did  not  undertake  this  book  in  the  character  of 
Beaumarchais'  advocate,  and  wished  to  be  acquainted  with  all 
the  documents  relating  to  this  lawsuit,  I  procured,  with  some 
trouble,  all  the  memorials  of  the  Count  de  la  Blache's  advo- 
cate, and  read  them,  together  with  the  answers  of  Beaumar- 
chais. I  have  before  me  the  original  of  this  famous  statement 
of  accounts,  which  had  traveled  from  the  Parliament  of  Paris 
to  the  Parliament  of  Aix,  and  which,  during  seven  years,  had 
been  subjected  to  the  inspection  of  so  many  judges  and  so 
many  advocates  that  it  had  become  necessary  to  keep  it  to- 
gether by  means  of  strips  of  paper  pasted  along  the  sides.  In 
providing  myself  with  all  the  documents  calculated  to  enlighten 
me  on  the  subject,  my  object  was  to  ascertain  exactly,  not 
whether  Beaumarchais  ought  or  ought  not  to  have  received 
the  15,000  francs  which  he  claimed — that  being  of  but  little 
importance  to  posterity — but  whether  he  was  an  audacious 
forger,  or  an  honest  man  undeser\'edly  calumniated,  which  was 
far  more  important.  I  might,  strictly  speaking,  have  dispensed 
with  this  fatiguing  inquiry ;  for,  after  all,  Beaumarchais,  after 
gaining  his  action  on  the  first  trial,  and  losing  it  on  an  appeal, 
through  circumstances  which  will  be  explained,  obtained  a  re- 
versal of  the  latter  decision,  and  a  final  judgment  from  the 
Parliament  of  Provence,  dated  July  21,  1778.  This  judgment 
gave  all  the  points  in  his  favor,  declared  the  statement  of  ac- 
counts perfectly  valid,  ordered  the  Count  de  la  Blache  to  exe- 
cute it  in  its  integrity,  and,  moreover,  ordered  him  to  pay  the 
expenses  of  the  action,  and  12,000  francs  damages  for  the  cal- 
umny he  had  uttered.  The  question,  then,  was  completely  set- 
tled, and  I  might  have  trusted  to  the  final  judgment  of  the 
Parliament  of  Provence ;  but  it  was  enough  that  so  injurious 
a  suspicion  should  have  been  hanging  over  Beaumarchais'  head 
for  seven  years,  it  was  enough  that  this  prolonged  calumny 
should  have  left  its  fatal  trace  in  his  life,  which  we  shall  meet 
with  more  than  once,  for  me  to  feel  it  necessary  to  obtain  a 


140  BEAUMAKCHAIS   AND   HIS   TIMES. 

complete  conviction  for  myself  with  regard  to  so  grave  a 
point. 

First  of  all,  as  to  the  question  of  probability.  Was  it  prob- 
able that  in  April,  1770,  Beaumarchais,  possessing  a  certain 
fortune  of  his  OAvn,  and,  moreover,  enjoying  the  wealth  brought 
to  him  by  his  second  wife,  who  was  still  alive  (it  may  be  re- 
membered that  she  only  died  on  the  21st  of  November  of  the 
same  year),  was  it  probable  that  in  this  position  Beaumar- 
chais would  have  run  the  risk  of  forging  a  document  in  order 
to  avoid  paying  to  Du  Vemey's  heir  53,500  francs,  and  to 
obtacin  from  him  15,000  francs,  particularly  when  he  knew 
beforehand  that  this  heir,  who  was  a  man  of  quality,  a  Ma- 
rechal-de-Camp,  possessing  great  interest  and  great  fortune, 
hated  him  with  all  his  heart,  and  would  neglect  nothing  to 
ruin  him  if  he  could  do  so  ?  There  is  already  something  in 
this  which  shocks  all  probability. 

Supposing  now  that  Beaumarchais  had  wished,  and  had 
been  able  to  forge  this  document,  would  he  have  given  it  the 
form  this  one  had?  It  is  a  large  double  sheet  of  paper,  of 
the  kind  known  as  "  a  la  Telliere ;"  the  very  complicated  de- 
tails of  the  statement,  written  in  Beaumarchais'  own  hand, 
fill  the  two  first  pages;  at  the  end  of  the  second  page  it  is 
signed  on  the  right  by  Beaumarchais,  and  on  the  left,  dated 
and  signed  by  Du  Verney.  The  third  page  contains  a  resu7ne 
in  figures  of  the  general  terms  of  this  statement.  What  did 
the  Count  de  la  Blache's  advocate  say  of  this  document  ?  He 
discussed  it  with  all  an  advocate's  ease;  at  one  time  he  in- 
sinuated that  the  signature  of  Du  Verney  was  a  forgery;  at 
another,  when  called  upon  to  make  the  accusation  of  forgery, 
he  declared  that  if  it  was  genuine  it  had  been  signed  at  a  period 
anterior  to  the  date  of  1770 ;  "  a  period  at  which,"  he  said, 
"  old  Du  Vemey's  hand  was  tremulous,  while  the  signature 
at  the  foot  of  this  document  was  written  boldly,  and  by  a 
hand  which  must  have  been  firm  and  light."  Here  the  ad- 
vocate pretended  not  to  see  what  was  staring  him  in  the  face 
— that  above  the  signature  of  Du  Verney,  written  in  the  same 
ink,  and  the  same  handwriting,  were  the  words, ''  Paris,  April 
1,  1770."  That  is  to  say,  Du  Verney  had  not  only  signed, 
but  dated  the  deed  in  question,  which  necessitated  the  hypoth- 


THE   DISPUTED    DOCUMEKT.  14l 

esis  that  he  was  in  the  habit  of  amusing  himself,  either  in  his 
youth  or  at  an  advanced  age,  by  signing  blank  documents 
and  dating  them  beforehand,  so  as  to  have  them  ready  for  the 
close  of  his  life.  Defeated  on  this  point,  the  advocate  then 
insinuated  that  this  large  double  sheet  of  paper  must  be  a 
blank  document,  signed  and  dated  by  Du  Vemey,  without 
doubt  in  1770,  but  for  an  entirely  different  object ;  and  that 
it  had  afterward  been  abstracted  and  filled  up  by  Beaumar- 
chais.  Now  what  likelihood  was  there  that  Du  Vemey — 
whose  methodic  habits  were  moreover  brought  against  Beau- 
marchais — would  have  left  lying  about  his  house,  with  no 
stated  object,  stamped  documents,  signed  exactly  at  the  end 
of  the  second  page  of  a  large  sheet  of  paper  "  a  la  Telliere," 
and,  moreover,  signed,  not  in  the  middle  of  the  paper,  but  on 
the  left,  precisely  so  as  to  keep  a  place  on  the  right  for  a  second 
signature?  What  likelihood,  in  fine,  was  there  that  Beau- 
marchais — against  whom  it  was  argued,  on  the  other  hand, 
that  during  the  latter  days  of  Du  Vemey's  life  he  could  scarce- 
ly ever  get  near  him  (which  was  true) — had  managed  to  ar- 
rive just  at  the  moment  for  abstracting  a  stamped  document, 
prepared  in  the  above  strange  manner?  Feeling  the  weak- 
ness of  his  argument,  Beaumarchais'  adversary  fell  back  upon 
the  contents  of  the  document  in  question.  He  could  prove 
without  trouble  that  its  clauses  were  complicated,  diffuse, 
sometimes  even  mixed  one  with  another,  and  that  it  con- 
tained matters  not  relating  in  any  way  to  the  statement  of 
accounts.  This  was  true ;  but  it  told  precisely  in  favor  of 
Beaumarchais ;  for  if  he  had  been  able  or  willing  to  forge  the 
docuinent,  he  would  have  made  it  either  shorter  or  more  me- 
thodic, instead  of  which,  as  he  was  arranging  a  long  series  of 
operations  with  an  old  man  of  eighty-seven,  the  statement 
had  naturally  exhibited  something  of  the  old  man's  prolix  and 
whimsical  nature.* 

*  The  advocate  attempted  to  explain  the  prolixity  of  the-  style  in 
which  the  document  was  written  by  saying  that  the  person  who  pre- 
pared it,  having  abstracted  the  stamped  document,  had  to  fill  up  two 
pages  in  order  to  reach  as  far  as  Du  Vemey's  signature ;  but,  if  Beau- 
marchais had  been  capable  of  such  an  action,  as  the  table  of  figures  on 
the  third  page  of  the  double  sheet  in  no  way  contributed  to  the  validity 
of  the  statement  of  accounts,  nothing  would  have  prevented  him  from 


142  BEAHMAECHAIS   AND  HIS   TIMES. 

But  it  will  be  said,  if  Beaumarchais  had  only  such  feeble 
arguments  to  reply  to,  how,  after  gaining  this  action  on  the 
first  trial,  could  he  have  lost  it  on  the  appeal?  Without  speak- 
ing here  of  the  influence  of  Goezman,  who  had  to  prepare  the 
report,  we  shall  afterward  find  another  councilor  of  the  Mau- 
peou  Parliament  acknowledge  formally,  in  a  letter  to  Beau- 
marchais, that  the  rumors  publicly  circulated  about  him  had 
influenced  him  much  in  his  decision.  It  must,  however,  be 
added,  for  the  sake  of  correctness,  that  there  were  some  cir- 
cumstances connected  with  this  lawsuit  which  were  calcu- 
lated to  make  a  certain  impression  upon  judges  who  were  al- 
ready strongly  prejudiced ;  for  instance,  if  the  reader  has  fol- 
lowed us  with  attention,  he  will,  doubtless,  already  have  in- 
quired what  had  become  of  the  duplicate  of  the  statement  of 
accounts  between  Beaumarchais  and  Du  Verney;  it  is  here 
that  the  adversary  of  Beatunarchais  thought  to  triumph  over 
him  when  he  exclaimed,  "  This  document,  ivritten  entirely 
by  yourself,  is  supposed  to  have  been  executed  in  duplicate 
between  you  and  Du  Verney;  now  no  duplicate  has  been 
found  among  the  papers  of  the  deceased,  consequently  no  du- 
plicate ever  existed,  and  consequently  the  deed  you  present  is 
a  forgery."  To  this  Beaumarchais  replied,  "  In  consequence 
of  the  difficulties  which  you,  his  suspicious  and  avaricious 
heir,  occasioned  in  my  interviews  with  Du  Verney  toward 
the  close  of  his  life,  we  could  scarcely  ever  meet,  except  al- 
most in  secret.  After  a  long  consultation  in  writing  on  the 
subject  of  our  accounts,  I  sent  him  the  duplicates  of  the  deed 
which  he  had  commissioned  me  to  draw  up,  both  of  them  bear- 
ing my  signature :  he  sent  me  back  one  of  the  two,  after  sign- 
ing it  and  dating  it  himself,  and  kept  the  other.  If  the  other 
one  was  not  to  be  found  among  his  papers,  he  had  destroyed 
it  or  lost  it,  or  you  yourself,  who  never  left  the  room  of  the 
deceased,  abstracted  it  before  the  inventory  was  made,  in  or- 
der that  it  might  not  be  used  in  corroboration  of  the  one  I 
now  present  to  you.  As  for  me,  I  prove  the  truth  and  gen- 
uineness of  this  deed,  not  only  by  the  deed  itself,  but  by  sev- 

taking  a  single  sheet  and  writing  the  deed  on  the  very  page  which  bore 
Du  Verncy's  signature  at  the  extremity ;  he  would  thus  have  only  had 
one  page  to  fill  up. 


THE   DISPUTED    DOCUMENT.  143 

eral  letters  from  Dij  Vemey,  which  I  also  present  to  3'ou,  the 
authenticity  of  which  I  defy  you  to  disprove,  and  which  are 
all  in  reply  to  questions  I  had  addressed  to  him  with  regard 
to  this  statement  of  accounts,  and  to  which  he  replied  with 
his  own  hand,  without  any  delay,  and  upon  the  veiy  sheet  of 
paper  which  contained  the  question,  according  to  our  habit 
of  corresponding  during  ten  years ;  I  even  present  you  one  of 
these  letters,  in  which  Du  Vemey  writes  to  me,  '  Now  the 
transaction  is  signed.'     "What  can  you  reply  to  this  V 

Maitre  Caillard,  the  advocate  of  Count  de  la  Blache,  was 
not  to  be  upset  so  easily.  "  This,"  he  said,  "  is  a  further  proof 
of  M.  de  Beaumarchais'  fraud ;  the  letters  with  which  we  are 
confronted  are  perhaps  in  Du  Verney's  handwriting,  but  they 
are  short,  vague,  without  importance ;  they  are  not  dated ; 
they  were  written  at  another  time,  and  about  some  other  sub- 
ject ;  and  the  pretended  questions,  with  their  dates,  to  which 
they  are  supposed  to  be  answers,  were  indorsed  afterward  on 
the  same  sheet  by  M.  de  Beaumarchais.  As  for  the  letter  in 
which  Du  Vemey  ^^Tites,  '  The  transaction  is  now  settled,'  it 
alludes  to  some  other  transaction." 

An  examination  of  the  letters  destroyed  so  damaging  an  in- 
terpretation ;  for  Du  Vemey's  answers,  although  naturally 
less  explicit  than  Beaumarchais'  questions,  all  of  which  applied 
to  the  statement  of  accounts,  could  have  reference  to  no  other 
questions ;  for  some  of  them  are  not  "  endorsed"  one  upon  the 
other,  that  is  to  say,  one  written  on  the  first  and  one  on  the 
third  page  of  the  sheet,  but  both  are  on  the  same  page,  Du 
Vemey's  answer  being  immediately  after  Beaumarchais'  ques- 
tion, which  rendered  the  frauds  imagined  by  the  advocate  im- 
possible. And,  finally,  if  these  answers  of  Du  Verney's  did  not 
refer  to  Beaumarchais'  questions,  which  were  supposed  to  have 
been  written  afterward,  they  must  have  referred  to  other  ques- 
tions and  other  letters  of  Beaumarchais,  which  ought  to  have 
been  found  among  Du  Verney's  papers.  Why,  then,  did  not 
the  opponent  present  them,  as  he  presented  all  the  letters  from 
Beaumarchais  to  Du  Vemey  from  which  he  thought  he  could 
get  any  advantage  ?  Such  is  the  true  view  of  the  deplorable 
lawsuit  which  Beaumarchais  had  to  carry  on  for  so  long  a 
time,  obliged  as  he  was  either  to  gain  it  or  to  pass  for  a 


144  BEAUMARCHAIS  AKD  HIS  TIMES. 

forger.  All  that  was  singular  in  the  affair,  that  is  to  say,  the 
absence  of  the  duplicate  of  the  deed  in  question  ;  the  slightly 
confused  style  in  which  it  was  drawn  up ;  the  somewhat 
mysterious  character  of  the  correspondence  between  Du  Verney 
and  Beaumarchais,  which  the  latter  brought  forward  in  sup- 
port of  this  deed ;  finally,  the  disappearance  from  among  Du 
Vemey's  papers  of  every  document  relating  to  this  statement 
of  accounts — all  these  circumstances  might  have  been  explain- 
ed naturally  enough  by  unprejudiced  judges  in  regard  to  a  man 
who  had  been  less  calumniated,  and  who  was  at  issue  with  an 
adversary  of  less  power,  in  the  following  manner :  An  old  man 
of  eighty-seven,  settling  with  a  friend,  who  was  detested  by  his 
heir,  certain  affairs  which  he  did  not  choose  to  submit  to  this 
heir,  had  naturally  gone  to  work  in  a  somewhat  mysterious 
manner,  while  the  heir  himself  was  interested  in  increasing  the 
mystery  rather  than  in  dissipating  it. 

Under  the  circumstances,  these  facts,  when  made  use  of,  and 
distorted  by  a  venomous  and  quibbling  advocate,  assumed  a 
sufficiently  black  appearance  to  account  for  the  apostrophe 
which  Beaumarchais  in  his  anger  addressed  to  certain  plead- 
ers :  "  Oh !  what  a  contemptible  trade  is  that  exercised  by  a 
man  who,  to  gain  the  money  of  another,  makes  disgraceful 
efforts  to  dishonor  a  third,  alters  facts  without  shame,  distorts 
meanings,  adduces  authorities  which  he  quotes  incon'ectly,  and 
sports  with  falsehood  and  perjury."  In  the  mean  while,  this 
action,  which  was  commenced  on  October  17,  1771,  before  the 
lower  court,  then  known  as  that  of  the  requites  de  r hotel*  was 
first  of  all  decided  in  favor  of  Beaumarchais.  The  first  judg- 
ment, dated  February  22,  1772,  refused  the  Count  de  la 
Blache's  petition  for  rescinding  the  agreement  between  Du 
Verney  and  Beaumarchais,  while  a  second  judgment,  dated 
March  14,  1772,  ordered  that  the  statement  of  accounts 
alleged  to  be  forged  should  be  acted  upon.  This  adversary 
made  an  appeal  to  the  High  Chamber  of  Parliament. 

Although  victorious  in  the  first  contest,  Beaumarchais  suf- 
fered much  from  it.  The  advocate  CaiUard  had  calumniated 
him  outrageously,  while  the  animosity  and  influence  of  the 

*  Corresponding  to  our  now  obsolete  title,  "  Court  of  Requests." — 
Tkans. 


AN   INDISCRETION.  145 

Count  de  la  Blaclie  raised  all  the  herd  of  pamphleteers  against 
him.  As  the  death  of  his  second  wife  happened  to  take  place 
while  this  melancholy  debate  was  going  on,  it  was  made  use 
of  as  a  pretext  for  the  atrocious  calumnies  of  which  I  have 
already  spoken.  These  calumnies  were  circulated  in  the 
foreign  papers,  and  in  those  manuscript  sheets  which  supplied 
in  so  detestable  a  manner  the  place  of  a  free  press.  They  found 
a  ready  hearing  from  all  those  persons  who  are  annoyed  at  the 
high  position  of  a  man  who  has  made  his  own  way,  above  all 
when  this  man  is  not  modest  about  it ;  and  it  is  quite  certain 
that  Beaumarchais  was  not.  Not  content  with  destroying  his 
reputation,  the  Count  de  la  Blache,  whom  he  speaks  of  some- 
where as  the  author  of  all  his  misfortunes,  had  just  surprised 
him,  and  given  him  a  coward's  thrust  under  the  following 
circumstances:  For  a  few  days  before  the  judgment  of  the 
lower  court  was  pronounced,  Beaumarchais,  learning  that  his 
adversary  was  spreading  his  report  every  where  that  the  prin- 
cesses had  driven  him  from  their  presence  for  dishonorable 
actions,  had  written  to  the  Countess  de  Perigord,  first  lady  in 
waiting  to  the  Princess  Victoire,  to  complain  of  the  count's 
calumnies,  and  to  ask  the  princesses  to  bear  witness  to  his 
honesty  and  honor.  The  Countess  de  Perigord  had  replied  to 
him  immediately  by  the  following  letter ; 

"  Versailles,  Feb.  12,  1T72. 
"  I  have  informed  Madame  Victoire,  sir,  of  the  contents  of  your 
letter,  and  she  assures  me  that  she  never  said  a  word  to  any  one 
which  could  injure  your  reputation,  not  knowing  any  thing  con- 
cerning you  which  could  lead  her  to  do  so.  She  has  desired  me  to 
cbmmunicate  this  to  you.  The  princess  even  added  that  she  was 
well  aware  you  were  engaged  in  a  lawsuit,  but  that  what  she  said 
about  you  could  never  do  you  any  harm  in  any  case,  particularly  in 
a  lawsuit,  and  that  you  might  be  at  rest  upon  this  point. 

"  I  am  dehghted  that  this  opportunity,  &c., 

"  T.   COMTESSE  DE  PeRIGORD." 

Instead  of  publishing  this  letter  literally,  which  was  quite 
sufficient  to  maintain  his  honor,  Beaumarchais,  in  order  to 
make  as  much  as  possible  out  of  it,  had  the  imprudence  to 
embody  it  in  a  note  to  one  of  his  Memorials  against  the  Count 
de  la  Blache,  in  which  he  said  that,  as  his  adversary  had  en- 
deavored to  "  deprive  him  of  the  flattering  protection  which 

G 


146  BEArMARCHAIS    AND    HIS   TIMES. 

Mesdames  had  always  granted  him,"  and  had  whispered  to 
the  judges  that  he  had  rendered  himself  nnworthy  of  their 
kindness,  and  that  they  "  no  longer  took  any  sort  of  interest 
in  him,"  he  was  authorized  by  Madame  Victoire  to  publish, 
&c.,&c.  Here  Beaumarchais  gave  an  exact  and  faithful  re- 
sume of  the  Countess  de  Perigord's  letter,  but  the  commentary 
which  preceded  it  was  both  unbecoming  and  rash.  He  thus 
laid  himself  open  to  his  advei-saries,  for  he  seemed  to  wish  to 
make  the  princesses  say  more  than  they  really  had  said,  and 
to  transform  a  simple  mark  of  esteem,  a  simple  certificate  of 
his  honesty,  into  an  engagement  to  use  their  influence  and  in- 
terest on  his  behalf  with  regard  to  his  lawsuit,  which  was 
necessarily  offensive  to  princesses  who  were  conscious  of  their 
duties.  He  had  scarcely  committed  this  blunder  when  the 
Count  de  la  Blache  hurried  to  Versailles,  procured  admission 
to  the  princesses'  presence,  and  complained  to  them  that  Beau- 
marchais had  made  an  unworthy  use  of  their  name  to  the  det- 
riment of  a  Marechal-de-Camp,  and  that,  in  a  printed  Memo- 
rial, he  had  had  the  audacity  to  affirm  that  the  princesses 
took  the  most  lively  interest  in  the  success  of  his  suit.  Beau- 
marchais had  not  said  that,  but  it  has  just  been  seen  that,  in 
speaking  of  "  interest"  and  "  protection,"  he  might  be  accused 
of  endeavoring  to  let  that  be  understood.  The  princesses  were 
irritated,  and  the  Count  de  la  Blache,  taking  advantage  of 
this,  procured  from  them  the  following  little  billet-doux: 

"  We  declare  that  we  take  no  interest  in  M.  Caron  de  Beaumar- 
chais and  his  lawsuit,  and  we  have  not  given  him  permission  to  state, 
in  a  printed  and  pubhc  Memorial,  that  he  enjoys  our  protection. 

"  MaRJE-AdELAIDE,  VlCTOIRE-LoUISH^ 

"  Sophie-Philippine,     Elisabeth-Justine. 

"  Versailles,  Feb.  15, 1772." 

This  declaration,  which  was  immediately  afterward  printed 
and  published  by  the  Count  de  la  Blache,  circulated  every 
where.  If  it  did  not  prevent  the  judges,  who  had  seen  the 
Countess  de  Perigord's  letter,  from  doing  justice  to  Beaumar- 
chais, although  they  ordered  the  suppression  of  the  indiscreet 
note  which  he  had  been  guilty  of  publishing,  the  public  were 
completely  deceived  by  it,  in  whose  eyes  the  author  of  the 
note  appeared  not  only  as  a  man  who  had  been  guilty  of  an 


"the  barber  of  SEVILLE."  147 

indiscretion,  in  commenting  on  and  amplifying  a  perfectly 
genuine  expression  of  esteem,  but  as  a  double  impostor,  who, 
to  support  a  false  statement  of  accounts,  produced  a  false  cer- 
tificate of  honesty.  To  complete  his  misfortune,  Beaumar- 
chais,  feeling  that  he  had  done  wrong  in  thus  commenting  on 
and  exaggerating  the  support  given  him  by  the  Princess  Vic- 
toire,  and  fearing  to  offend  her  by  maintaining  the  truth,  did 
not  dare  to  publish  the  Countess  de  Perigord's  letter,  which 
explained  his  commentary,  and  found  himself  obliged  to  re- 
main silent  under  the  effects  of  the  suspected  imposition.* 
Things  were  in  this  state  ;  the  action  was  going  on  in  appeal ; 
Beaumarchais,  struggling  as  best  he  could  against  an  adversary 
of  influence  and  his  own  bad  reputation,  was  gaining  some  re- 
pose from  this  war  of  quibbles  by  writing  "The  Barber  of 
Seville,"  when  an  incident,  as  strange  as  it  was  unexpected, 
occurred  to  complete  the  embarrassment  of  his  situation,  and 
to  supply  fresh  food  for  the  malice  of  his  enemies. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

Madame  Menard. — A  Portrait  by  Grimm. — A  jealous  Dnke. — The  Ri- 
vals.— The  Duke  attacks  Gudin. — The  Duke  attacks  Beaumarchais. 

The  details  of  the  incident  which  is  now  coming  under  our 
notice  are  completely  unknown  to  the  public.  In  his  notice 
of  Beaumarchais,  La  Harpe  contents  himself  with  saying  that 
he  had  a  quaiTel  with  a  nobleman  who  wished  to  take  a  cour- 
tesan away  from  him.  The  name  is  rather  a  hard  one  for 
Mademoiselle  Me'nard,  with  whom  we  are  to  make  acquaint- 

*  It  was  not  until  two  years  afterward  that  he  determined  to  reply. 
In  December,  1773,  when  the  lawsuit  was  going  on  which  the  Councilor 
Goezman  instituted  against  him,  and  which  will  soon  come  under  our 
notice,  Beaumarchais  found  himself  accused  again,  by  this  judge,  of 
having  invented  a  testimonial  from  the  Princess  Victoire.  Groezman 
here  acted  in  bad  faith,  for  he  knew  of  the  Countess  de  Perigord's  let- 
ter, and  pretended  to  be  ignorant  of  it.  It  was  only  then  that  Beau- 
marchais published  this  letter,  endeavoring,  with  much  skill,  to  palliate 
his  conduct  in  making  such  an  indiscreet  use  of  it.  I  have  just  ex- 
plained, with  much  exactness,  in  what  this  indiscretion  consisted,  and 
how  the  Count  de  la  Blache  managed  to  profit  by  it. 


148  BEAUMAECHAIS   AND   HIS   TIMES. 

ance,  and  who  was  not  precisely  what  La  Harpe  calls  her. 
In  his  edition  of  the  workg  of  Beaumarchais,  which  has  been 
made  the  model  of  all  the  others,  Gudin,  reserving  the  narra- 
tive of  his  friend's  quarrel  with  the  Duke  de  Chaulnes  for 
his  Memoirs,  which  remained  unpublished,  only  printed  the 
two  most  vague  and  insignificant  of  all  the  letters  relating  to 
the  affair  in  question. 

In  the  mean  while  the  author  of  "  The  Barber  of  Seville" 
had  carefully  collected  all  the  papers  relating  to  this  strange 
affair.  The  packet  which  contains  them  is  quite  complete ; 
it  is  one  of  those  on  which  he  has  written,  with  his  own  hand, 
"  Materials  for  the  Memoirs  of  my  own  Life ;"  and  as  the  ad- 
venture had  occasioned  the  commencement  of  judicial  proceed- 
ings before  M.  de  Sartines,  then  Lieutenant-general  of  Police, 
Beaumarchais,  who  afterward  became  rather  intimately  ac- 
quainted with  him,  induced  him  to  give  back  all  the  letters 
and  depositions  of  each  of  those  actors  who  had  appeared  in 
this  tragi-comic  scene.  I  shall  endeavor,  then,  to  reproduce  it 
as  it  actually  occurred,  leaving  the  characters  as  much  as  pos- 
sible to  speak  in  their  own  words.  These  pictures  of  manners, 
when  they  are  minute  and  authentic,  throw  much  more  light 
on  the  character  of  a  period  than  the  most  pompous  generali- 
ties. Let  us,  first  of  all,  say  a  word  about  the  amiable  person 
who  was  the  cause  of  so  many  combats  between  Beaumarchais, 
skillful  and  prudent  as  Ulysses,  and  a  duke  and  peer  of  France, 
strong  and  impetuous  as  Ajax.  Mademoiselle  Menard  was  a 
young  and  pretty,  if  not  virtuous  artiste,  who  in  June,  1770, 
had  appeared  with  much  success  at  the  Italian  Theatre,  in 
Madame  Laruette's  parts;  she  had,  above  all,  distinguished 
herself  in  that  of  Louise  in  "  The  Deserter."  Grimm  has  giv- 
en us  her  portrait.  "It  is  agreed  generally  enough,"  he  says, 
in  his  "  Literary  Correspondence,"  "  that  she  played  the  part 
of  Louise  better  than  any  of  our  most  favorite  actresses,  and 
that  she  introduced  nuances  into  the  character  which  were 
missed  by  Madame  Laruette  and  Madame  Trial.  She  had  less 
success  in  the  other  parts  ;  and  it  may  be  said  that  she  played 
with  an  unevenness  which  was  really  surprising.  She  has 
gained  many  supporters ;  authors,  poets,  and  musicians  are  in 
her  interest,  in  spite  of  which  M.  le  Marechal  de  Richelieu, 


MADAME   MENARD.  149 

htslar-aga  of  the  amusements  of  the  public,  that  is  to  say,  of 
plays,*  does  not  wish  her  to  be  engaged  even  on  trial.  He 
knows  better  than  we  do  what  we  like  to  have  for  our  money. 
Mademoiselle  Menard's  voice  is  of  mediocre  quality,  and  she 
has  had  a  bad  singing-master.  With  a  better  system,  and  the 
power  of  regulating  her  voice,  she  may  be  able  to  sing  suffi- 
ciently well  not  to  injure  the  effect  of  her  acting.  As  regards 
the  latter,  she  has  first  of  all  the  advantages  of  an  easy  deliv- 
ery and  a  natural  pronunciation.  She  does  not  speak  from 
the  head,  and  in  alto  tones,  like  Madame  Laruette  and  Mad- 
ame Trial.  Her  face  is  that  of  a  handsome  girl,  but  not  of  a 
pleasing  actress.  Put  Mtidemoiselle  Menard,  with  her  fresh- 
ness, youth,  and  piquancy,  down  to  supper  by  the  side  of  Mad- 
emoiselle Amould,  and  the  latter  ■ndll  appeal*  a  skeleton  in 
comparison ;  but  on  the  stage  this  skeleton  will  be  graceful, 
distinguished,  and  charming,  while  the  fresh  and  piquante  Me- 
nard will  look  like  like  a  slut  (gaupe).i  Her  head  appears  to 
be  rather  large ;  and  her  cheek-bones  are  rather  too  high, 
which  impedes  the  play  of  the  countenance.  A  great  deal  has 
been  said  about  the  beauty  of  her  arms ;  they  are  very  white, 
but  too  short ;  they  look  like  lions'  paws ;  her  face  generally 
is  rather  too  large  and  strongly  markedj  for  the  naive,  ingen- 
uous, gentle  heroines,  such  as  the  majority  of  those  of  our  ope- 
ras comiques.% For  the  rest,  I  am  of  the  opinion  of  the 

pubHc  that  Mademoiselle  Menard  ought  to  be  received  on  tri- 
al ;  she  appears  capable  of  being  made  very  useful.  It  is  said 
that  she  was  in  the  first  instance  a  flower-girl  on  the  boule- 
vards, but  that,  wishing  to  abandon  this  calling,  which  has 

*  In  his  capacity  of  first  gentleman  of  the  King's  Chamber. 

t  I  must  apologize  to  readers  who  are  delicate  in  the  choice  of  their 
expressions  for  quoting  some  of  Grimm's  words  literally.  They  have, 
however,  an  historic  importance ;  above  all,  when  we  remember  that 
Grimm's  articles  formed  the  delight  of  a  sufficiently  lai^e  number  of 
German  princes  and  princesses,  who  paid  considerable  prices  for  them. 

X  This  portrait  of  Grimm's  will  be  rather  modified  directly  by  a  wor- 
thy abbe,  who  tells  us  that  gentleness  was  the  distinct  characteristic  of 
Mademoiselle  Menard's  physiognomy. 

§  An  opera  comique  is  any  opera  in  which  spoken  dialogue  occurs, 
and  can  not,  therefore,  be  rendered  by  "  comic  opera."  The  French 
version  of  the  "  Sonnambula,"  for  instance,  in  which  most  of  the  reci- 
tative is  omitted,  is  entitled  "Opera  Comique." — Trass. 


150  BEAUMAECHAIS   AND   HIS   TUIES. 

rather  degenerated  from  its  original  importance  at  the  period 
when  Glycera  sold  bouquets  at  the  gates  of  the  Athenian  Tem- 
ples, she  purchased  Restaut's  Grammar,  and  applied  herself  to 
the  study  of  the  French  grammar  and  pronunciation,  after 
which  she  tried  her  powers  of  acting.  One  thing  is  certain, 
that  during  her  debuts  she  applied  to  all  the  authors,  whether 
composers  or  poets,  in  order  to  obtain  their  advice  and  profit 
by  their  intelligence,  and  this  with  a  zeal  and  docility  which 
have  been  rewarded  by  the  applause  she  has  received  in  her 
diflferent  parts.  M.  de  Pequigny,  now  Duke  do  Chaulnes,  the 
protector  of  her  charms,  has  had  her  portrait  painted  by 
Greuze,  so  that,  if  we  do  not  keep  her  on  the  stage,  we  shall, 
at  all  events,  see  her  at  the  next  exhibition."* 

The  protection  of  the  Duke  de  Chaulnes  having  doubtless 
prevented  Mademoiselle  Me'nard  from  being  protected  by  the 
Duke  de  Richelieu,  she  sacrificed  her  hopes  of  success  to  the 
jealousy  of  the  first  of  these  two  dukes,  and  renounced  the 
stage  ;  but,  as  she  was  witty  and  agreeable,  she  received  very 
distinguished  guests  (of  the  male  sex,  it  must  be  understood), 
Marmontel,  Sedaine,  Rulhieres  Chamfort,  together  with  the 
highest  nobles,  who  were  brought  there  by  the  Duke  de  Chaul- 
nes. This  duke,  who  was  then  thirty,  was  already  notorious 
for  the  violence  and  eccentricity  of  his  disposition.  He  was 
the  last  representative  of  the  younger  branch  of  the  house  of 
Luynes,  which  I  think  became  extinct  in  his  person.  Gudin's 
unpublished  manuscript  contains  some  details  about  him,  which 
are  corroborated  by  all  contemporaneous  evidence.  "  His  dis- 
position," writes  Gudin,  "was  a  strange  mixture  of  good 
qualities  and  defects  of  the  most  opposite  nature.  Wit  with- 
out judgment ;  pride,  and  yet  such  a  deficiency  in  discernment 
as  to  deprive  him  of  the  consciousness  of  his  own  dignity  in 
his  relations  with  his  superiors,  his  equals,  or  his  inferiors; 
a  vast  but  ill-regulated  memory ;  a  great  desire  to  acquire 
knowledge,  and  a  still  greater  taste  for  dissipation  ;  prodigious 
physical  strength ;  a  violence  of  temper  which  interfered  with 
his  reason,  in  itself  always  sufiiciently  confused ;  liability  to 
fits  of  passion,  in  which  he  resembled  a  drunken  savage,  not 
to  say  a  wUd  beast ;  always  giving  himself  up  to  the  impres- 

*  Correspondance  Litteraire. 


A.  jeaijOcs  duke.  151 

sion  of  the  moment,  without  reference  to  the  consequences,  he 
had  got  himself  into  more  than  one  dilemma ;  banished  from 
the  kingdom  for  five  years,  he  had  employed  the  period  of  his 
exile  in  a  scientific  journey ;  he  liad  visited  the  Pyramids,  as- 
sociated with  the  Bedouins  of  the  desert,  brought  back  many 
objects  of  natural  history  and  an  unhappy  monkey,  which  he 
overwhelmed  with  blows  every  day."*  The  Duke  de  Chaulnes' 
temper  rendered  his  liaison  with  Mademoiselle  Me'nard  a  very 
quarrelsome  one ;  jealous,  unfaithful,  and  violent,  he  had  for 
some  time  inspired  her  with  no  other  feeling  than  that  of  fear, 
when  he  suddenly  took  a  great  fancy  to  Beaumarchais,  and 
introduced  him  to  his  mistress.  At  the  end  of  some  months, 
he  perceived  that  she  preferred  Beaumarchais  to  him :  his  love 
changed  to  anger ;  Mademoiselle  Menard,  frightened  by  his 
violence,  begged  Beaumarchais  to  discontinue  his  visits.  Out 
of  regard  to  her,  he  consented  to  do  so ;  but  as  the  duke  still 
continued  his  ill  treatment,  she  became  desperate,  and  took 
refuge  in  a  convent.  When  she  considered  she  had  regained 
her  liberty  by  a  final  rupture,  she  returned  to  her  house,  in- 
viting Beaumarchais  to  come  and  see  her. 

Beaumarchais,  although  the  duke  did  not  authorize  his 
visits,  appears  to  have  profited  by  the  permission  given  him 
by  Mademoiselle  Menard  to  recommence  calling  upon  her. 
At  last,  one  fine  morning,  February  11,  1773,  the  Duke  de 
Chaulnes  took  it  into  his  head  to  kill  his  rivaL  As  the  fol- 
lowing scene  lasted  an  entire  day,  and  as  each  of  the  actors 
who  took  part  in  it  made  his  deposition  in  writing  before  the 
Lieutenant  of  Police  or   the  Tribunal  of  the  Alarshals  of 

*  We  may  add  to  this  portrait  of  Gudin  that  the  Dake  de  Chaulnes, 
in  the  midst  of  his  disorderlj  and  extravagant  life,  had  presened  some 
of  his  father's  tastes,  who  was  a  distinguished  savant  in  mechanics, 
physics,  and  natural  histor}-,  and  who  died  an  honorary  member  of 
the  Academy  of  Sciences.  The  son  was  passionately  fond  of  chemis- 
try, and  made  some  discoveries  in  relation  to  it.  Still,  even  in  this 
kind  of  occupation  he  was  remarkable  for  the  eccentricity  of  his  dispo- 
sition. Thus,  in  order  to  test  the  efficacy  of  a  preparation  he  had 
invented  against  asphyxia,  he  shut  himself  up  in  a  glass  closet  calcu- 
lated to  induce  asphyxia,  lea\'ing  to  his  \-alet  the  task  of  coming  to  his 
succor  from  time  to  time,  and  trying  the  effect  of  his  remedy  upon 
him.  Luckily,  he  had  an  attentive  servant,  who  did  not  let  him  go  too 
far. 


152  BEAUMARCHAIS   AND   HIS   TIMES. 

France  as  regarded  his  own  share  in  the  transaction,  I  will 
compare  the  different  depositions,  commencing  with  that  of 
Gudin,  who  saw  the  commencement  of  the  storm.  In  the 
unpublished  narrative  which  he  prepared  of  the  whole  affair 
thirty-five  years  after  the  event,  Gudin  colors  a  little.  I  pre- 
fer his  deposition,  as  made  at  that  time  :  he  appears  more 
natural  in  it.  We  see  that  he  is  young,  good-natured,  de- 
voted to  Beaumarchais,  with  whom  he  had  been  acquainted 
some  time,  and  who  had,  doubtless,  introduced  him  to  Made- 
moiselle Me'nard,  but  very  susceptible,  not  very  warlike,  and 
much  afraid  of  compromising  himself. 

Report  made  to  the  Lieutenant  of  Police  of  what  happened  to  me 
on  Thursday ,  February  11. 
"  On  Thursday,  at  eleven  in  the  morning,  I  went  to  Madame  Me- 
nard's, after  having  been  to  several  places.  '  It  is  a  long  while  since 
I  have  seen  you/  she  said ;  '  I  thought  you  no  longer  cared  for  me/ 
I  assured  her  of  the  contrary,  and  took  a  seat  in  an  arm-chair  by  the 
side  of  her  bed.  She  burst  into  tears,  and,  unable  to  contain  her 
grief,  told  me  how  much  she  had  had  to  suffer  from  the  violence  of 
the  Duke  de  Chaulnes.  She  afterward  spoke  to  me  of  an  accusation 
made  against  M.  de  Beaumarchais.  The  duke  entered  ;  I  rose,  bow- 
ed to  him,  and  gave  him  my  place  by  the  side  of  the  bed.  '  I  am 
crying,'  said  Madame  Menard,  '  and  begging  M.  Gudin  to  induce  M. 
de  Beaumarchais  to  justify  himself  from  the  ridiculous  accusation 
made  against  him.'  '  What  necessity  is  there,'  replied  the  duke, '  for 
justifying  a  scoundrel  like  Beaumarchais  V  '  He  is  a  very  honest 
man,'  she  replied,  shedding  fresh  tears.  '  You  love  him,'  cried  the 
duke,  rising.  '  You  humiliate  me ;  and  I  declare  I  will  go  out  and 
fight  with  him.'  There  was,  in  the  room  where  we  were,  a  friend  of 
Madame  Menard's,  a  servant,  or  lady's  maid,  and  a  young  child,  the 
daughter  of  Madame  Menard.  We  all  got  up  with  shrieks.  Madame 
Menard  jumped  out  of  bed.  I  ran  after  the  duke,  who  went  out,  in 
spite  of  my  resistance,  and  locked  the  door  of  the  ante-chamber  upon 
me.  1  went  back  to  the  apartment  and  cried  out  to  the  alarmed 
women,  '  I  am  going  to  Beaumarchais ;  I  will  prevent  this  duel.'  I 
started  from  the  neighborhood  of  the  Italian  Theatre,  where  she  lives, 
in  the  direction  of  the  Hotel  de  Conde,  opposite  where  M.  de  Beau- 
marchais lives.  I  met  his  carriage  in  the  Rue  Dauphine,  near  the 
Carrefour  de  Bussy.  I  threw  myself  on  the  horses'  heads,  and  then 
spoke  to  him  at  the  window.  '  The  duke  is  looking  out  for  you,  to 
fight  with  you.  Come  to  my  house  ;  I  will  tell  you  the  rest.'  '  1 
am  going  to  the  Captainry  to  hold  a  sitting ;  I  will  go  to  your  house 


THE  DUKE  ATTACKS  GUDDJ.  153 

when  it  is  finished.'*  He  went  off.  I  followed  the  carriage  with 
my  eyes,  and  then  took  the  road  to  my  own  house  ;  as  I  was  ascend- 
ing the  steps  of  the  Pont  Neuf  from  the  Quay  de  Conti,  I  felt  my- 
self stopped  by  the  skirt  of  my  coat,  and  fell  back  into  the  arms  of 
the  Duke  de  Chaulnes,  who,  bemg  much  taller  and  stronger  than  my- 
self, carried  me  off  like  a  bird  of  prey,  threw  me,  in  spite  of  my  re- 
sistance, into  a  hackney-coach,  from  which  he  had  got  down,  cried 
out '  Rue  de  Conde'  to  the  coachman,  and  told  me,  with  an  oath,  that 
I  should  find  Beaumarchais  for  him.  '  By  what  right,'  I  said, '  JM. 
le  Due,  do  you,  who  are  always  talking  about  liberty,  dare  to  attack 
mine  V  '  By  the  right  of  the  stronger  ;  you'll  find  Beaumarchais  for 
me,  or  .  .  .'  '  M.  le  Due,  I  have  no  arms,  and  you  will  not  assassinate 
me,  probably.'  '  No,  I  shall  only  kill  this  Beaumarchais,  and  when 
I  have  plunged  my  sword  into  his  body,  and  have  torn  his  heart  out 
with  my  teeth,  this  Menard  will  become  what  she  may.'  (I  suppress 
the  execrable  oaths  by  which  these  words  were  accompanied.)  '  I 
do  not  know  where  M.  de  Beaumarchais  is ;  and  if  I  did  know,  I 
should  not  tell  you,  in  the  passion  in  which  you  now  are.'  'If  you 
resist,  I  will  strike  you.'  '  I  shall  strike  you  back,  M.  le  Due.'  '  A 
blow  to  me  !'  and  he  at  once  threw  himself  upon  me,  and  endeavor- 
ed to  take  me  by  the  hair ;  but,  as  I  wear  a  wdg,  it  came  off  in  his 
hand,  which  rendered  this  scene  comic,  as  I  understood  from  the 
shouts  of  laughter  uttered  by  the  populace  around  the  coach,  of  which 
both  the  windows  were  open.  The  duke,  who  could  see  nothing, 
took  me  by  the  throat  and  inflicted  several  scratches  on  my  neck,  my 
ear,  and  my  chin.  I  stopped  his  blows  as  best  I  could,  and  called 
loudly  for  the  guard.  He  became  more  moderate  then.  I  put  my 
wig  on  again,  and  declared  to  him  that,  on  leaving  M.  de  Beaumar- 
chais, where  he  was  taking  me  by  force,  I  would  follow  him  nowhere 
except  before  a  commissary.  I  made  all  the  remonstrances  which 
the  confused  state  I  was  in,  and  the  little  time  I  had,  would  allow. 
Quite  sure  that  he  would  not  find  M.  de  Beaimiarchais  at  home,  and 
equally  sure  that  if  they  saw  me,  his  servants  would  not  fail  to  tell 
me  where  their  master  was,  I  was  in  hopes  that  if  they  saw  the  duke 
alone,  his  agitated  state  would  prevent  their  telling  him.  Accord- 
ingly, the  very  moment  the  duke  jumped  out  of  the  carriage  to  knock 
at  M.  de  Beaumarchais'  door,  I  jumped  out  also,  and  returned  to  my 
own  house,  but  by  out-of-the-way  streets,  lest  the  duke  should  run 
afler  me  again." 

*  Here  Gudin  weakens  both  his  own  remark  and  Beaumarchais'  an- 
swer for  fear  of  injuring  him.  His  real  words,  as  restored  in  his  man- 
uscript and  in  Beaumarchais'  deposition,  were  these :  "  The  duke  is 
looking  for  you  to  kill  you."  Beaumarchais'  answer  was,  "He  will 
only  kill  his  ovra  fleas." 

G2 


154  BEAUMAKCHAIS   AND   HIS   TIMES. 

I  suppress  that  part  of  Gudin's  deposition  which  contains 
what  afterward  appears  in  the  other  depositions,  and  only  re- 
produce the  termination  on  account  of  its  tone. 

"  There,  sir,"  he  says,  "  is  the  exact  truth  of  all  I  saw  and  all  that 
happened  to  me.  I  regret  it  still  more  from  the  fact  that  this  affair 
will  probably  make  the  Duke  de  Chaulnes  my  irreconcilable  enemy, 
although  all  I  did  was  to  render  a  service  to  himself  in  preventing 
the  conflict,  which,  however  it  might  have  terminated,  could  not 
have  failed  to  have  been  fatal  to  him,  above  all,  under  the  unfortu- 
nate circumstances  by  which  he  is  at  present  surrounded.  I  said 
this  to  him  himself,  in  the  coach  where  he  was  keeping  me.  I  am, 
with  the  most  profound  respect,  sir,  &c., 

"  GUDIN    DE    LA    BrENELLERIE." 

Let  us  leave  Gudin  running  away,  but  do  not  let  us  quit 
the  Duke  de  Chaulnes,  who  was  knocking  at  Beaumarchais' 
door. 

The  servants  told  him  imprudently  that  their  master  was 
at  the  Louvre,  at  the  Tribunal  of  the  Captainry,  and  he  accord- 
ingly hurried  there,  still  anxious  to  kill  him.  Beaumarchais, 
who  had  been  already  warned  by  Gudin,  was  passing  sentence 
on  offenders  against  the  game-laws  when  he  saw  his  enraged 
enemy  enter.  We  will  now  let  him  speak  for  himself.  What 
follows  is  extracted  from  an  unpublished  Memorial  which  he 
addressed  to  the  Lieutenant  of  Police  and  the  Tribunal  of  the 
Marshals  of  France. 

Exact  Narrative  of  what  took  place  Thursday,  February  11,  1773, 
between  M.  le  Due  de  Chaulnes  and  myself,  Beaumarchais. 
"  I  had  just  opened  the  sittings  at  the  Captainry  when  I  saw  M.  le 
Due  de  Chaulnes  enter  with  the  wildest  air  imaginable.  He  told  me 
aloud  that  he  had  something  important  to  communicate  to  me,  that  I 
must  come  out  immediately.  '  I  can  not,  M.  le  Due,'  I  replied  ;  '  the 
public  service  requires  that  I  should  terminate,  in  a  becoming  man- 
ner, the  task  I  have  commenced.'  I  wished  him  to  sit  down ;  he  re- 
fused ;  people  were  getting  astonished  at  his  appearance  and  man- 
ner. I  began  to  fear  that  the  affair  would  be  understood,  and  sus- 
pended the  sittings  for  a  moment  to  go  with  him  into  a  private  room. 
There  he  told  me,  in  the  energetic  language  of  the  public  markets, 
that  he  wished  to  kill  me  on  the  spot,  to  tear  my  heart  out,  and  drink 
my  blood,  for  which  he  thirsted.  '  Oh !  is  that  all,  M.  le  Due  V  I  re- 
plied ;  '  you  must  allow  business  to  go  before  pleasure.'  I  wished  to 
return  ;  he  stopped  me,  telling  me  he  would  tear  my  eyes  out  before 


THIi   DUKK    ATTACKS    BEACMARCHAIS.  155 

every  one  if  I  did  not  go  out  with  him.  '  You  would  be  lost,  M.  le 
Due,  if  you  were  mad  enough  to  attempt  it.'  I  entered  calmly,  and 
directed  that  a  seat  should  be  given  to  him.  Surrounded  as  I  was 
by  the  officers  and  guards  of  the  Captainry,  I  exhibited,  for  two  hours 
while  the  sittings  lasted,  the  greatest  coolness  in  opposition  to  the  ir- 
ritable, w  ild  manner  in  which  he  walked  about,  disturbing  the  sit- 
tings, and  saying  to  every  one,  *  Will  it  be  much  longer  V*  He  took 
M.  le  Comte  de  Marcouville,  the  officer  who  was  with  me,  on  one 
side,  and  told  him  that  he  was  waiting  to  fight  with  me.  M.  de  Mar- 
couville sat  down  with  a  sombre  expression.  I  made  a  sign  to  him 
to  be  silent,  and  continued.  M.  de  Marcouville  told  M.  de  Vintrais, 
Officer  of  the  Marechaussee  and  Inspector  of  the  Preserves.  I  per- 
ceived it,  and  again  made  signs  for  him  to  remain  silent.  I  said, '  M. 
de  Chaulnes  is  lost  if  it  is  supposed  that  he  comes  to  take  me  away 
from  here  and  cut  my  throat.'  When  the  sittings  were  over  I  put  on 
my  walking-dress,  and,  going  down  to  M.  de  Chaulnes,  asked  him 
what  he  wanted  of  me,  and  what  cause  of  complaint  he  could  have 
against  a  man  whom  he  had  not  seen  for  six  months.  '  No  explana- 
tion,' he  said  to  me ;  '  let  us  go  and  fight  directly,  or  I  make  a  dis- 
turbance here.'  'At  least,'  I  said,  'you  will  allow  me  to  go  to  my 
house  for  a  sword  1  I  have  only  an  indifferent  mourning-sword  in  my 
carriage,  with  which  you  do  not  probably  require  that  I  should  defend 
myself  against  you.'  '  We  will  call,'  he  replied,  'at  M.  le  Comte  de 
Turpin's,  who  will  lend  you  one,  and  whom  I  wish  to  be  our  witness.' 
He  jumped  into  my  carriage  before  me ;  I  got  in  after  him.  His 
carriage  followed  us.  He  did  me  the  honor  to  assure  me  that  this 
time  I  should  not  escape,  adorning  his  remarks  with  all  the  superb  im- 
precations that  are  so  familiar  to  him.  The  calmness  of  my  replies 
amazed  him  and  increased  his  rage.  He  threatened  me  with  his  fist 
in  the  carriage.  I. observed  to  him  that,  if  he  intended  to  fight  me, 
a  public  insult  could  only  retard  his  object,  and  that  I  was  not  going 
to  get  my  sword  if,  in  the  mean  while,  I  was  to  fight  like  a  scavenger. 
We  arrived  at  M.  le  Comte  de  Turpin's,  who  was  going  out.  He 
came  up  to  the  carriage.  '  M.  le  Due,'  I  said, '  has  taken  me  off  with- 
out my  knowing  why  ;  he  wishes  to  cut  throats  with  me  ;  but  in  this 
strange  affair  he  leaves  me  at  least  to  hope  that  you  will  be  willing, 
sir,  to  witness  the  conduct  of  the  two  adversaries.'     M.  de  Turpin 

*  It  is  impossible  not  to  notice  the  comic  side  of  this  scene,  in  which 
Beaumarchais,  in  his  judge's  robes,  probably  made  the  audience  last  as 
long  as  he  could,  while  the  duke,  in  his  anxiety  to  kill  him,  was  asking 
whether  "  it  would  be  much  longer."  Beaumarchais,  although  not 
wanting  in  courage,  was,  doubtless,  less  in  a  hurry  than  the  duke,  for 
the  latter  was  a  colossus,  and  he  was  furious,  as  will  be  seen,  even  to 
madness. , 


156  BEAUMARCHAIS   AND    HIS   TIMES. 

told  me  that  pressing  business.forced  him  to  go  instantly  to  the  Lux- 
embourg, and  that  it  would  keep  him  there  till  four  in  the  afternoon. 
I  had  no  doubt  that  the  Count  de  Turpin's  object  was  to  allow  a  few 
hours  for  a  violent  temper  to  get  calm.  He  went  away.  M.  de 
Chaulnes  wished  to  keep  me  in  his  house  until  four  o'clock.  '  As  for 
that,  no,  M.  le  Due ;  in  the  same  way  that  I  would  not  meet  you 
alone  on  the  ground,  on  account  of  the  risk  I  should  run  of  your  ac- 
cusing me  of  assassination  if  you  forced  me  to  wound  you,  1  will  not 
go  into  a  house  of  which  you  are  the  master,  and  where  you  would 
not  fail  to  play  me  a  bad  turn.'  I  ordered  my  coachman  to  take  me 
home.  '  If  you  stop  there,'  said  M.  de  Chaulnes, '  I  will  stab  you  at 
the  door.'  '  Then  you  will  have  that  pleasure,'  I  said, '  for  I  shall  wait 
nowhere  else  until  the  hour  which  is  to  show  me  what  your  inten- 
tions really  are.'  His  insults  were  continued  while  we  were  in  the 
carriage.  '  Stop,  M.  le  Due,'  I  said  ;  '  when  a  man  intends  to  fight,  he 
does  not  talk  so  much.  Come  in,  take  dinner,  and  if  I  do  not  suc- 
ceed in  restoring  you  to  your  senses  between  now  and  four  o'clock, 
and  you  persist  in  forcing  me  to  the  alternative  of  fighting  or  incur- 
ring contempt,  the  fate  of  arms  will  necessarily  have  to  decide  the 
matter.'  The  carriage  arrived  at  my  door.  I  got  out,  he  followed, 
and  pretended  to  accept  my  invitation  to  dinner.  I  gave  my  orders 
calmly.  The  footman  gave  me  a  letter,  when  he  rushed  toward  it 
and  tore  it  from  me,  before  my  father  and  all  of  my  servants ;  I  wish- 
ed to  turn  the  aflfair  oflf  as  a  joke.  He  commenced  swearing  ;  my 
father  was  frightened ;  I  reassured  him,  and  ordered  dinner  to  be 
brought  to  us  in  my  private  room.  We  went  up  stairs ;  my  servant 
followed  me ;  I  asked  him  for  my  sword  ;  it  was  at  the  furbisher's. 
'  Go  and  get  it,'  I  said ;  '  and  if  it  is  not  ready,  bring  me  another.' 
'  I  forbid  you  to  leave  the  room,'  said  M.  de  Chaulnes, '  or  I  knock 
you  down.'  '  You  have  changed  your  intention,  then,'  I  said.  '  Heav- 
en be  praised !  for  I  could  not  fight  without  a  sword.'  I  made  a  sign 
to  my  valet,  who  went  out.  I  was  going  to  WTite ;  he  snatched  the 
pen  from  me.  I  represented  to  him  that  my  hoQse  was  a  sanctuary, 
which  I  should  not  violate  unless  he  forced  me  to  do  so  by  his  out- 
rages. I  wished  to  commence  a  parley  with  him  about  his  insane 
idea  in  wanting  positively  to  kill  me.  He  threw  himself  upon  my 
mourning  sword,  which  had  been  placed  on  my  bureau,  and  said  to 
me,  with  all  the  rage  of  a  madman,  and  gnashing  his  teeth,  that  I 
should  go  no  farther.  He  drew  my  sword,  though  his  own  was  by 
his  side,  and  was  about  to  rush  upon  me.  '  Coward  !'  I  cried ;  and, 
taking  him  around  the  body,  so  as  to  get  beyond  the  reach  of  the 
weapon,  I  endeavored  to  push  him  toward  the  mantelpiece.  With 
the  hand  he  had  at  liberty,  he  dug  his  five  claws  into  my  eyes  and 
lacerated  my  face,  which  became  bathed  in  blood.     Without  loosing 


DE   CHAULNES   AND    BEAUMAKCHAIS.  157 

my  hold,  I  managed  to  ring ;  the  servants  ran  in.  '  Disarm  this  ma- 
niac,' I  cried, '  while  I  hold  him.'  My  cook,  as  brutal  and  strong 
as  the  duke,  took  up  a  log  to  knock  him  down.  I  cried  still  more 
loudly, '  Disarm  him,  but  do  not  injure  him  ;  he  would  say  I  had  at- 
tempted to  assassinate  him  in  my  house.'  My  sword  was  torn  away 
from  him.  Instantly  he  sprang  at  my  hair,  and  completely  stripped 
my  forehead.  The  pain  I  experienced  made  me  quit  his  body,  which 
I  was  encircling,  and  with  the  full  force  of  my  arm  I  sent  a  heavy 
blow  straight  into  his  face.  '  Wretch !'  he  exclaimed, '  you  strike  a 
duke  and  peer !'  1  confess  that  this  exclamation,  extravagantly  ab- 
surd at  such  a  moment,  would  have  mad^  me  laugh  at  any  other  time ; 
but,  as  he  is  stronger  than  I  am,  and  had  taken  me  by  the  throat,  I 
could  think  only  of  defending  myself.  My  coat,  my  shirt  were  torn, 
my  face  was  bleeding  afresh.  My  father,  an  old  man  of  seventy-five, 
wished  to  throw  himself  between  us.  He  came  in  for  his  own  share 
of  the  scavenger-like  fury  of  the  duke  and  peer.  My  servants  inter- 
fered to  separate  us.  I  had  myself  lost  all  restraint,  and  the  blows 
were  returned  as  fast  as  they  were  given.  We  were  now  at  the  edge 
of  the  staircase,  where  the  bull  fell,  rolling  over  my  servants,  and 
taking  me  along  with  him.  This  dreadful  shock  restored  him  some- 
what to  himself.  He  heard  a  knock  at  the  street  door,  ran  to  it,  saw 
the  same  young  man*  come  in  who  had  forewarned  me  that  morning 
in  my  carriage,  took  him  by  the  arm,  pushed  him  into  the  house,  and 
swore  that  no  one  should  come  in  or  go  out,  except  by  his  order,  un- 
til he  had  torn  me  to  pieces.  Hearing  the  noise  he  was  making,  a 
crowd  had  collected  before  the  door ;  one  of  the  women  of  the  house 
cried  out  from  a  window  that  her  master  was  being  assassinated. 
My  young  friend,  alarmed  at  seeing  me  thus  disfigured  and  covered 
with  blood,  wished  to  drag  me  up  stairs.  The  duke  would  not  suf- 
fer it.  His  fury  recommenced ;  he  drew  his  sword,  which  had  re- 
mained at  his  side  ;  for  it  must  be  remarked  that  none  of  my  people 
had  yet  dared  to  take  it  away  from  him,  thinking,  as  they  afterward 
informed  me,  it  was  a  mark  of  disrespect  which  might  have  been  at- 
tended with  bad  results  for  them.  He  rushed  upon  me  to  run  me 
through ;  eight  persons  fell  upon  him,  and  he  was  disarmed.  He 
wounded  my  valet  in  the  head,  cut  my  coachman's  nose  off,  and  ran 
my  cook  through  the  hand.  '  The  treacherous  coward,'  I  exclaim- 
ed ;  '  this  is  the  second  time  he  attacks  me  with  a  sword  while  I  am 
without  arms.'  He  ran  into  the  kitchen  to  look  for  a  knife  ;  he  was 
followed,  and  every  thing  that  could  inflict  a  mortal  wound  was  put 
away.  I  armed  myself  with  one  of  the  fire-irons.  I  was  about  to 
come  down,  when  I  heard  of  a  thing  which  proved  to  me  at  once  that 
this  man  had  become  absolutely  mad  ;  which  wjis,  that  directly  he  no 

*  It  was  Gndin.  . 


158  BEAUMAKCHAIS    AKD    UIS   TIMES. 

longer  saw  me,  he  went  into  the  dining-room,  sat  down  by  the  table 
all  by  himself,  ate  a  large  plateful  of  soup  and  some  cutlets,  and  drank 
two  bottles  of  water.  He  heard  another  knock  at  the  street  door, 
ran  to  opJn  it,  and  saw  M.  Chenu,  the  Commissary  of  Police,  who, 
surprised  at  the  horrible  disorder  in  which  he  found  all  my  servants, 
and  startled,  above  all,  by  my  lacerated  face,  asked  me  what  was  the 
matter.  '  The  matter  is,  sir,'  I  replied, '  that  a  cowardly  ruffian,  who 
came  here  with  the  intention  of  dining  with  me,  sprang  at  my  face 
directly  he  had  set  foot  in  my  room,  and  tried  to  kill  me  with  my  own 
sword,  and  afterward  with  his  own.  You  see,  sir,  that  with  the  per- 
sons I  have  about  me,  I  might  have  torn  him  to  pieces ;  but  I  should 
have  had  to  give  him  back  better  than  he  was  before.  His  relations, 
delighted  to  have  got  rid  of  him,  would,  at  the  same  time,  have  sought 
to  make  it  an  awkward  affair  for  me.  I  restrained  myself,  and,  with 
the  exception  of  a  hundred  blows  from  my  fist,  with  which  I  replied 
to  the  outrage  he  had  committed  on  my  countenance  and  hair,  I  pre- 
vented any  injury  being  done  to  him.'  The  duke  then  spoke,  and 
said  '  that  he  had  had  to  fight  me  at  four  o'clock,  before  M.  le  Comte 
de  Turpin,  who  had  been  chosen  to  act  as  witness,  and  that  he  had 
not  been  able  to  wait  until  the  hour  agreed  upon.'  '  What  do  you 
think,  sir,  of  this  man,  who,  after  committing  a  shameful  outrage  in 
my  house,  himself  divulges  his  guilty  intentions  before  a  public  offi- 
cial, and  destroys  with  one  word  all  possibility  of  executing  his  proj- 
ect, which  this  cowardice  proves  he  had  never  seriously  contem- 
plated?' At  these  words,  my  ruffian,  who  is  as  brave  with  his  fists 
as  an  English  sailor,  rushed  a  fifth  time  upon  me.  I  had  laid  by  my 
improvised  weapon  on  the  arrival  of  the  commissary ;  reduced  to 
those  of  nature,  I  now  defended  myself  as  best  I  could  before  the  as- 
sembly, which  separated  us  a  third  time.  M.  Chenu  begged  me  to 
remain  in  my  drawing-room,  and  took  away  the  duke,  who  wanted  to 
break  the  glasses.  At  this  instant  my  valet  came  back  with  a  new 
sword.  I  took  it,  and  said  to  the  commissary, '  Sir,  I  had  no  design 
to  fight  a  duel,*  nor  shall  I  ever  have  one  ;  but,  without  accepting  a 
rendezvous  from  this  man,  I  shall  go  about  the  town  with  this  sword 
constantly  by  my  side,  and  if  he  insults  me — as  the  publicity  which 
he  gives  to  this  horrible  adventure  proves,  moreover,  that  he  is  the 
aggressor — I  swear  that,  if  1  can,  the  world  which  he  disgraces  by 
his  baseness  shall  be  delivered  from  him.'  As  the  weapon  which  I 
then  possessed  was  sufficiently  imposing  to  inspire  respect,  he  retired, 
without  a  word,  into  my  dining-room,  where  M.  Chenu,  who  follow- 
ed him,  was  as  surprised  as  he  was  frightened  to  see  him  bruise  his 
countenance  with  his  fist,  and  tear  out  a  handful  of  hair  in  each  hand 

*  The  laws  being  still  very  strict  against  a  duel,  the  Duke  de  Chaul- 
nes  will  be  seen  to  deny,  on  his  side,  that  be  ever  intended  to  fight  one. 


THE   COMMISSAKY    OF   POLICE.  159 

with  rage  at  his  inability  to  kill  me.  M.  Chenu  at  last  prevailed  upon 
him  to  go  home,  and  he  had  the  coolness  to  get  his  hair  arranged  by 
my  valet,  whom  he  had  wounded.  I  went  up  stairs  to  get  my  wounds 
dressed,  and  he  threw  himself  into  a  carriage." 

After  some  other  details,  which  it  appeared  useless  to  in- 
troduce, Beaumarchais  terminates  as  follows : 

«  "  I  have  introduced  no  reflection  into  this  recital.  I  have  stated 
the  facts  simply,  and  even  have  employed,  as  much  as  possible,  the 
very  expressions  which  were  used,  not  wishing  to  give  the  slightest 
coloring  to  the  truth  in  narrating  the  strangest  and  most  disgusting 
adventure  which  could  happen  to  a  reasonable  man." 

Now  comes  the  report  of  the  Commissary  of  Police  to  M. 
de  Sartines.  It  will  be  noticed,  above  all  toward  the  end,  as 
one  of  the  characteristics  of  the  period,  with  what  reverential 
timidity  a  police  magistrate,  even  in  the  exercise  of  his  func- 
tions, spoke  of  a  duke  and  peer  who  bad  conducted  himself 
like  a  scavenger,  and  how  he  seemed  to  fear  giving  any  ex- 
planation in  reference  to  him. 

"Feb.  13,  1T73. 

"  Sir, — You  have  asked  me  for  the  detaUs  of  the  affair  which  took 
place  between  the  Duke  de  Chaulnes  and  Le  Sieur  de  Beaumar- 
chais, which  I  can  not  give  you  very  exactly,  as  I  did  not  arrive  at 
the  house  of  the  said  Sieur  de  Beaumarchais  until  after  the  great  dis- 
turbance was  over.  I  found  M.  le  Due  de  Chaulnes  down  stairs 
with  his  sword  broken,  having  at  his  side  nothing  but  a  portion  of  the 
sheath.  His  hair  was  untied,  his  coat  and  w-aistcoat  were  unbuttoned, 
and  he  had  no  cravat.  The  Sieur  de  Beaumarchais  was  in  an  al- 
most similar  state,  and  had,  moreover,  his  black  coat  torn  as  well  as 
his  shirt.  He  had  no  cravat,  his  hair  was  untied,  and  in  the  great- 
est disorder,  and  his  face  was  scratched  in  several  places.  I  pre- 
vailed upon  these  gentlemen  to  go  up  stairs,  to  a  room  on  the  first 
floor,  where  they  began  again,  said  disagreeable  things  to  one  an- 
other, and  indulged  reciprocally  in  impolite  reproaches,  couched  in 
very  hard  terms,  which  led  to  their  taking  hold  of  one  another  again, 
and  made  me  fear  that  unfortunate  consequences  might  come  from 
it.  I,  however,  calmed  M.  le  Due  a  little,  and  invited  him  to  pass 
into  another  room,  that  we  might  talk  together  privately,  which  he 
consented  to  without  much  difficulty.  I  made  certain  representa- 
tions to  him  in  a  civil  manner  on  the  subject  of  this  scene.  He  lis- 
tened to  them,  and  conformed  to  my  request,  which  was  that  nothing 
more  should  take  place.  This  promise  he  gives  me  his  word  of 
honor  that  he  kept ;  for  while  I  went  out  for  about  half  a  quarter  of 


160  BEAUMAKCHAIS   AJSD    HIS   TDIES- 

an  hour  to  speak  of  the  matter  to  a  cordon  rouge,*  who  was  dining 
in  the  quarter,  and  who  had  been  named  to  me  by  the  two  parties,  he 
went  away  from  the  house  of  the  said  Sieur  de  Beaumarchais.  It  is 
reported  in  public  that  M.  le  Due  de  Chaulnes  was  rude  to  me,  al- 
though he  knew  who  I  was.  This  fact  is  positively  false  ;  I  have 
only  praise  to  bestow  on  the  conduct  of  M.  le  Due,  who  did  not  even 
say  any  thing  disagreeable  to  me,  but,  on  the  contrary,  treated  me 
with  much  civility,  and  even  consideration,  f  In  doing  him  this 
justice,  I  at  the  same  time  serve  the  cause  of  truth. 

"  I  am,  with  respect,  &c.,  Chenu,  Commissary." 

The  reader  must  be  desirous  of  hearing  the  Duke  de  Chaul- 
nes explain  himself  in  his  turn.  We  will  append  the  depo- 
sition written  and  addressed  by  him  to  the  court  of  the  Mar- 
shals of  France.  With  the  aid  of  the  preceding  documents  it 
will  be  easy  to  discover  in  his  narrative  the  points  in  regard 
to  which  he  dissimulates  or  distorts  facts.  The  style  of  this 
deposition,  which  I  reproduce  literally,  has  also  its  importance 
as  a  sign  of  the  times. 

"  For  more  than  three  years,"  writes  the  Duke  de  Chaulnes,  "  I 
had  the  misfortune  of  being  the  dupe  of  M.  de  Beaumarchais,  whom 
I  thought  my  friend,  when  valid  reasons  induced  me  to  keep  him  at 
a  distance.  It  reached  my  ears  several  times  after  this  that  he  had 
been  in  the  habit  of  speaking  very  ill  of  me.  Finally,  last  Thursday, 
I  found  Le  Sieur  Gudin,  one  of  his  friends,  at  the  house  of  a  woman 
of  my  acquaintance.  He  had  the  audacity^  to  assure  her,  on  the 
part  of  Le  Sieur  de  Beaumarchais,  that  it  was  not  true,  as  I  had 
stated,  that  a  lady  of  quality  had  complained  of  his  conduct.§  Wish- 
ing to  have  this  contradiction  explained,  I  went  to  look  for  Le  Sieur 

*  The  Count  de  Turpin. 

t  Here  the  Commissary  of  Police  adds,  in  a  note,  ^'As  well  as  the 
Sieur  de  Beaumarchais."  It  is  somewhat  curious  to  find  this  magistrate 
stating  that  the  Duke  de  Chaulnes  did  "not  even  say  any  thing  disa- 
greeable to  him."     That  he  "  even  showed  him  consideration,"  «S:c. 

J  It  is  scarcely  probable  that  Gudin  had  any  kind  of  "  audacity." 

§  This  related  to  the  subject  already  mentioned  in  Gudin's  deposi- 
tion, and  which,  if  the  unpublished  manuscript  is  to  be  believed,  related 
to  some  indiscretion  of  which  Beaumarchais  was  falsely  accused  in 
reference  to  a  noble  lady,  the  daughter  of  a  Marshal  of  France,  whom 
Gndin  does  not  name.  It  can  be  easily  seen  that  the  duke  does  not 
choose  to  confess  the  real  motive  of  his  rage.  He  confesses  it,  in  an- 
other letter,  to  the  Duke  de  la  Valliere,  in  which  he  acknowledges  him- 
self guiltj-  of  having  allowed  himself  to  be  led  away  by  a  "  transport  of 
jealous  rage." 


A  TALE  FOR  THE  MARSHALS  OF  FRANCE.      161 

de  Beaumarchais,  at  his  o^vn  house,  with  Le  Sienr  Gudin,  whom  I 
took  in  the  same  hackney-coach  as  myself,  so  that  he  might  not  have 
time  to  prepare  him.  The  Sieur  de  Beaumarchais  being  at  the  Tri- 
bunal of  the  Captainry,  I  went  there  and  took  him  into  a  room  apart, 
to  tell  him  that  I  wished  for  an  explanation.  So  little  was  there  any 
question  of  it  during  the  sitting,  that  I  spoke  to  him  about  a  game 
license  which  he  promised  to  obtain  for  me  at  Orly.  Count  de 
Marcouville  and  other  officers  of  the  Captainry  were  present.  On 
leaving  the  Captainry,  I  got  into  his  carriage  and  told  the  coachman 
to  go  to  M.  de  Turpin,  who  was  connected  with  the  explanation  I  de- 
sired. M.  de  Turpin,  who  was  going  out,  observed  to  us  that  it  would 
be  better  to  get  into  a  hackney-coach  than  to  remain  with  three  car- 
riages collected  at  his  door  ;  that,  moreover,  it  was  two  o'clock,  and 
that  he  only  had  a  minute  to  spare,  because  he  was  expected  at  the 
Emperor's  embassy.  Having  got  into  the  carriage,  M.  de  Beau- 
marchais said  to  me  that,  in  any  case,  I  could  not  ask  him  for  satis- 
faction, because  he  had  only  a  mouming-sword.  I  observed  to  him 
that,  if  there  icere  any  question*  of  such  a  thing,  I  was  not  better 
armed  than  himself,  since  I  had  only  a  small  sword  without  a  guard : 
that  I  would,  besides,  change  with  him  if  he  desired  it ;  but  that,  first 
of  all,  we  wanted  a  more  ample  explanation.  M.  de  Turpin  observed 
again  that  he  was  obliged  to  go  away,  which  he  did,  with  the  under- 
standing that  he  was  to  come  to  my  house  at  four.  I  went  with  M. 
de  Beaumarchais  to  his  house  to  dine  there  ;t  but  hardly  had  he 
reached  his  room,  when  he  began  to  address  the  most  atrocious  in- 
sults to  me.  I  told  him  that  he  was  an  ill-bred  person,  and  that  he 
should  come  out  immediately,  and  give  me  satisfaction  in  the  street ; 
but  he  preferred  calling  four  of  his  people,  who,  with  himself,  threw 
themselves  upon  me  and  took  my  sword  away.J  He,  at  the  same 
time,  sent  his  sister  for  M.  Chenu,the  Commissary  of  Police,  before 
whom  he  again  dared  to  have  the  impudence  to  say  to  me  that  I  lied 
like  a  low  scoundrel,  and  a  thousand  other  horrible  things.  On  leav- 
ing M.  de  Beaumarchais,  I  went  and  made  my  statement  to  M.  de 

*  "  If  there  were  any  question  of  it"  is  amusing ;  the  duke,  sum- 
moned before  the  Tribunal  of  the  Marshals  of  France,  does  not  like  to 
avow  that  he  has  challenged  Beaumarchais. 

t  "  To  dine  there"  is  charming  in  its  naivete,  after  the  conrersution 
with  Gudin  in  the  hackney-coach,  in  which  the  duke  says  he  wishes  to 
tear  Beaiunarchais'  heart  out  with  his  teeth. 

X  Beaumarchais'  account  is  ten  times  more  probable,  and  complete- 
ly destroys  this  statement  of  the  duke's,  who,  moreover,  destroys  him- 
self in  the  next  phrase  ;  for,  if  Beaumarchais  had  intended  to  have  the 
duke  knocked  down  by  four  of  his  people,  what  interest  could  he  have 
had  in  sending  at  the  same  time  for  the  Commissary  of  Police  1 


162  BEA.UMABCHAIS  AKD   HIS  TIMES. 

Sartines,  and  the  next  day  but  one  afterward,  by  his  advice,  to  M.  de 
la  VriUiere.  On  returning  from  Versailles,  I  learned  that  Le  Sieur 
de  Beaumarchais  was  retailing  the  story  to  my  disparagement,  say- 
ing that  he  had  challenged  me,  and  that  I  had  refused  to  follow  him. 
In  order  to  destroy,  in  a  positive  manner,  all  mystery  about  this  point, 
I  thought  it  best  (many  serious  persons  thought  the  same)  to  go  to  the 
lobbies  of  the  theatres,  and  say  that,  as  M.  de  Beaumarchais  was  stat- 
ing things  against  my  honor,  and  was  not  of  noble  birth,  he  did  not 
deserve  that  I  should  compromise  myself  as  I  had  done  the  day  be- 
fore, but  should  be  corrected  like  a  plebeian.  Since  this  time  the 
Sieur  de  Beaumarchais  has  been  at  liberty  four  days  without  my  hear- 
ing any  thing  of  him.  It  would  have  been  difficult  to  know  that  he 
was  of  noble  birth,  as  he  is  the  son  of  a  watchmaker  ;  he  does  not 
even  appear  in  the  '  Royal  Almanac'  as  King's  Secretary,*  and  it  was 
not  even  known  at  the  court,  for  a  long  time,  whether  he  was  eligi- 
ble. Altogether,  if  the  majority  of  the  facts  of  this  affiiir  could  not 
be  verified  as  easily  as  they  can,  even  if  the  insults  which  M.  de  Beau- 
marchais had  the  impudence  to  address  to  me  before  the  commissary 
himself  did  not  afford  a  strong  presumption  of  what  he  might  say 
and  do  in  the  absence  of  witnesses,  it  would  be  sufficient  for  me  to 
remind  persons  that  I  have  never  been  known  to  a  law-court,  to  the 
police,  in  Paris  or  in  any  place,  as  a  quarrelsome  person,  a  gambler, 
or  a  madman,  while  the  reputation  of  M.  de  Beaumarchais  is  far  from 
being  equally  intact ;  for,  independently  of  his  well-known  insolence, 
and  the  most  incredible  rumors,  he  is  at  this  moment  undergoing  a 
criminal  prosecution  for  forgery." 

This  last  phrase  of  the  Duke  de  Chaulnes  is  a  gross  calum- 
ny, for  he  knew  perfectly  well  that  Beaumarchais  was  not  un- 
dergoing a  criminal  2irosecution  for  forgery,  but  that  he  was  en- 
gaged in  a  civil  action  with  the  Count  de  la  Blache  on  the  sub- 
ject of  a  deed  of  which  he  disputed  the  genuineness,  without 
ever  daring  to  prosecute  him  directly  for  forgery.  We  can, 
however,  see  by  this  what  a  disastrous  influence  this  action 
with  La  Blache  exercised  on  Beaumarchais'  reputation,  since 
the  Duke  de  Chaulnes  did  not  fear,  during  the  very  time  of 
the  action,  to  distort  facts  in  so  revolting  a  manner.  The  fact 
of  the  duke  doing  thus  the  honors  of  his  adversary's  morality 
obliges  us  to  remind  the  reader  that  he  himself  was  at  this 

*  All  the  preceding  passage  is  very  significant  in  style.  The  last  as- 
sertion of  the  duke  is  incorrect.  I  have  not  been  able  to  test  it  by  the 
Almanac  of  1773,  but  I  have  found  the  name  of  Beaumarchais  in  sev- 
eral Almanacs  of  an  earlier  date. 


BEAUMAKCHAIS    HEADS   "THE    BAKBER."  163 

time  bringing  an  action  of  a  horribly  scandalous  nature  against 
his  own  mother  ;  that  the  documents  beneath  our  eyes  prove 
that  he  was  as  debauched  and  disorderly  in  every  way  as  he 
was  brutal ;  and  that,  after  being  banished  from  the  kingdom 
for  acts  of  violence,  his  entire  life  was  but  a  series  of  acts  of 
the  same  nature. 

The  day  of  the  11th  of  February  having  been  so  stormy,  it 
would  be  natural  to  think  that  Beaumarchais  employed  the 
evening  in  regaining  his  tranquillity,  in  repose,  and  in  taking 
precautions  for  the  next  day ;  however,  if  I  am  to  believe 
Gudin's  manuscript,  as  he  was  expected  the  same  evening  at 
the  house  of  one  of  his  friends,  to  read  "  The  Barber  of  Seville" 
to  a  numerous  party,  he  anived  at  the  rendezvous  fresh  and 
ready — at  least  morally  so— read  his  comedy  with  much  verve, 
gave  a  lively  account  of  the  furious  behavior  of  the  Duke  de 
Chaulnes,  and  passed  a  portion  of  the  night  in  playing  the 
harp  and  singing  seguedillas.  "  Thus,"  says  Gudin,  "  in  ev- 
ery circumstance  of  his  life  he  was  entirely  devoted  to  what- 
ever occupied  his  attention,  without  being  turned  away  from 
it  either  by  what  had  taken  place  or  by  what  was  to  follow, 
so  sure  was  he  of  his  own  faculties  and  of  his  presence  of 
mind.  He  never  needed  preparation  on  any  point ;  his  intel- 
ligence was  at  his  command  at  all  times,  and  his  principles 
were  never  at  fault." 

The  next  morning  Gudin  tells  us  how  old  M.  Caron  brought 
his  son  an  old  sword  of  the  time  of  his  youth,  and  said  to  him, 
"  You  young  men  have  now  only  indifterent  arms ;  here  is  a 
substantial  one,  and  of  a  time  when  people  fought  more  often 
than  they  do  in  the  present  day :  take  it ;  and  if  that  scoun- 
drel of  a  duke  approaches  you,  kill  him  like  a  mad  dog." 
However,  the  duel  was  no  longer  possible;  the  Duke  de 
Chaulnes  had  thought  fit  to  go  to  the  lobbies  of  all  the  the- 
atres, and  declare  openly  that,  as  his  rival  was  not  a  noble- 
man, he  should  correct  him  like  a  plebeian.  The  altercation 
having  thus  been  made  public,  the  Tribunal  of  the  Marshals 
of  France,  which  decided  cases  of  this  kind  between  noblemen 
— (and,  without  wishing  to  contradict  the  Duke  de  Chaulnes, 
Beaumarchais  was  one,  it  will  be  remembered,  in  virtue  of  his 
receipt) — the  Tribunal  of  the  Marshals  took  up  the  affair,  and 
sent  a  guard  to  each  of  the  two  advei'saries. 


164  BEAUMAKCHAIS  ANB  HIS  TIMES. 

During  the  interval  the  Duke  de  la  Vrilliere,  minister  of  the 
king's  household,  had  summoned  Beaumarchais,  and  ordered 
him  to  retire  to  the  country  for  some  days ;  and  as  he  protest- 
ed energetically  against  such  an  order — the  compliance  with 
which,  immediately  after  the  threats  of  the  Duke  de  Chaulnes, 
would  have  compromised  his  honor — the  minister  had  directed 
him  to  remain  under  arrest  at  his  own  house  until  he  had  ren- 
dered an  account  of  this  conflict  to  the  king.  It  was  at  this 
juncture  that  the  Tribunal  of  the  Marshals  of  France  success- 
ively called  the  two  contending  parties  before  it.  Beaumar- 
chais had  no  trouble  in  proving  that  all  his  crime  consisted  in 
being  preferred  to  a  duke  and  peer  by  a  pretty  woman,  in  pos- 
session of  her  liberty,  which  was  not  a  capital  offense ;  and 
the  result  of  the  inquiry  having  been  unfavorable  to  the  Duke 
de  Chaulnes,  the  latter  was  sent  on  the  19th  of  February,  by  a 
lettre  de  cachet,  to  the  chateau  of  Vincennes.  The  Tribunal 
of  the  Marshals  of  France  having  summoned  Beaumarchais  a 
second  time,  informed  him  that  he  was  free,  and  no  longer  un- 
der arrest. 

All  this  was  suiSciently  just ;  but  Beaumarchais,  who  was 
rather  distrustful  of  human  justice,  called  upon  the  Duke  de' 
la  Vrilliere  to  know  whether  he  was  really  to  consider  him- 
self at  liberty.  Not  finding  him  at  home,  he  left  a  message 
for  him,  and  then  went  straight  to  M.  de  Sartines  to  put  the 
same  question  to  him.  The  lieutenant  of  police  replied  that 
he  was  perfectly  free.  Then,  and  not  till  then,  he  considered 
himself  secure  from  all  accident,  and  ventured  into  the  streets 
of  Paris.  He  had  reckoned  without  his  host ;  the  very  little 
mind  of  the  Duke  de  la  Vrilliere  was  offended  at  the  Tribunal 
of  the  Marshals  of  France  rescinding  "in  the  name  of  the 
king"  an  order  of  arrest  which  had  been  imposed  by  him  "  in 
the  name  of  the  king,"  and,  in  order  to  teach  this  tribunal  to 
pay  more  regard  to  his  authority,  sent  Beaumarchais  on  the 
24th  of  February,  still  "  in  the  name  of  the  king,"  to  For- 
I'Eveque.  Perhaps,  also,  he  was  made  to  perceive  that  it  was 
unbecoming  to  send  a  duke  and  peer  to  Vincennes,  while  the 
son  of  a  watchmaker  got  off  with  having  merely  to  repair,  as 
best  he  could,  the  damage  done  to  his  countenance  by  the  duke 
and  peer's  violence. 


BEAUMAKCHAIS  IN  PRISON.  165 


CHAPTER  X. 

Beanmarchais  at  For-l'Eveque. — Beaumarchais  in  Seclasion. — Madame 
Menard's  Intercession. — Beaumarchais  in  his  Prison. — Beaumarchais 
gives  in. — A  Letter  to  a  Child. — Goezman  and  hisEeport. — ^Beaumar- 
chais in  Despair. 

Beaumabchais,  then,  was  taken  away  from  his  family,  his 
occupation,  his  lawsuit,  and  imprisoned,  contrary  to  all  jus- 
tice. At  another  period,  such  an  act  of  iniquity  would  not 
have  passed  without  notice;  but  the  public  then  took  but 
little  interest  in  the  man  who  was  shortly  to  become  its  idol. 
"  This  individual,"  said  "  Bachaumont's  Miscellany,"  speak- 
ing of  "The  Barber  of  Seville,"  and  of  the  adventures  we  are 
relating,  "  this  very  insolent  individual,  who  has  so  much  self- 
assurance,  is  not  liked ;  and  although  in  this  quarrel  it  does 
not  appear  that  there  is  any  thing  to  reproach  him  with,  he 
is  pitied  less  than  another  person  would  be  for  the  vexations 
he  has  experienced." 

Beaumarchais'  first  letter  from  his  prison  is  philosophic 
enough ;  it  is  addressed  to  Gudin. 

"  In  virtue,"  he  writes,  "  of  a  Icttre  sans  cachet*  called  lettre  de 
cachet,  signed  Louis,  and  lower  down,  Phelippeaux,  recommended 
Sartines,  executed  Buchot,  and  undergone  Beaumarchais,  I  have 
been  domiciled,  my  friend,  since  this  morning,  at  For-l'Eveque,  in  a 
room  without  a  carpet,  at  a  rent  of  2160  livres,  where  I  am  given 
to  hope  that  I  shall  want  nothing.  Is  it  the  duke's  family  which  I 
have  saved  from  a  criminal  prosecution  that  imprisons  me  ?  Is  it 
the  minister,  whose  orders  I  have  constantly  followed  or  anticipated  ? 
Is  it  the  dukes  and  peers,  with  whom  I  can  never  have  any  thing 
to  do  ■?  That  I  can  not  say ;  but  the  sacred  name  of  the  king  is  such 
a  fine  thing  that  it  can  not  be  too  much  repeated  and  made  use  of. 
It  is  thus  that,  in  all  well-regulated  countries,  those  who  can  not  be 

*  This  pleasantry,  which  Beaumarchais  repeats  in  his  Memorials 
against  Goezman,  is  explained  by  the  fact  that  the  kttres  de  cachet, 
which  are  also  called  kttres  closes,  differed  from  other  royal  missives  in 
so  far  that  they  only  bore  the  king's  sign-manual,  and  were  not  sealed 
with  the  great  seal  of  state. 


166  BEATJMARCHAIS  AKD  HIS  TIMKS. 

inculpated  with  justice  are  punished  by  authority !  What  can  be 
done  ?  Wherever  there  are  men,  odious  things  take  place  ;  and  the 
great  wrong  of  being  right  is  always  a  crime  in  the  eyes  of  power, 
which  wishes  incessantly  to  punish  and  never  to  judge." 

But  if,  on  the  first  day  of  his  captivity,  he  appeared  to  have 
resigned  himself  to  his  fate  with  sufficient  philosophy,  he  was 
soon  horribly  annoyed ;  his  incarceration,  occurring  as  it  did 
in  the  middle  of  his  action  against  the  Count  de  la  Blache, 
did  him  fearful  injury  ;  his  adversary,  profiting  by  the  circum- 
stance, labored  incessantly  to  blacken  his  character  in  the 
opinion  of  the  judge ;  took  all  sorts  of  steps ;  obtained  the 
recommendations  and  solicitations  of  influential  persons,  and 
pressed  eagerly  for  the  case  to  be  decided,  while  the  unfortu- 
nate prisoner  whose  fortune  and  honor  were  engaged  in  this 
afiair  could  not  even  manage  to  obtain  permission  to  go  out 
for  a  few  hours,  in  order  that  he,  in  his  turn,  might  visit  his 
judges.  M.  de  Sartines  showed  the  greatest  kindness  to  him, 
but  he  could  only  alleviate  his  position  ;  his  liberty  depended 
on  the  minister.  Beaumarchais  had  commenced  by  represent- 
ing his  case  to  the  Duke  de  la  Vrilliere  as  that  of  a  citizen 
unjustly  imprisoned.  He  sent  him  memorials  upon  memo- 
rials, containing  superabundant  proof  that  he  had  done  no 
wrong.  He  demanded  to  be  informed  of  the  reason  of  his  de- 
tention ;  and  when  M.  de  Sartines  warned  him,  in  a  friendly 
manner,  that  his  tone  would  lead  to  nothing,  he  replied  with 
haughtiness,  "  The  only  satisfaction  of  the  persecuted  is  to 
testify  that  they  are  persecuted  unjustly." 

While  exhausting  himself  in  vain  protests,  the  period  for 
the  decision  of  his  lawsuit  drew  near  ;  to  M.  de  Sartines'  re- 
quest that  he  might  be  allowed  to  go  out  for  some  hours  in 
the  day,  the  Duke  de  la  Vrilliere  replied,  without  writing, 
"  This  man  is  too  insolent ;  let  him  leave  the  conduct  of  his  af- 
fair to  his  solicitor."  Thereupon  Beaumarchais,  with  despair 
and  indignation,  wrote  to  M.  de  Sartines  in  these  words : 

"  It  has  been  clearly  proved  to  me  now  that  I  am  intended  to  lose 
my  suit,  if  it  is  a  suit  that  can  be  lost,  or  about  which  there  is  even  a 
doubt ;  but  I  confess  to  you  that  I  was  not  prepared  for  the  derisive 
observation  of  the  Duke  de  la  Vrilliere,  who  tells  me  to  '  leave  the 
representations  connected  with  my  affair  to  my  solicitor,'  when  he 


BEAOIAKCHAIS   IN   HIS   PKISON.  167 

knows  as  well  as  I  do  that  solicitors  are  not  allowed  to  make  them. 
Great  gods !  can  they  not  ruin  an  innocent  man  without  laughing  in 
his  face?*  Thus  I  have  been  grievously  insulted,  and  justice  has 
been  denied  me  because  my  adversary  is  a  man  of  quality.  I  have 
been  put  in  prison,  and  I  am  kept  there  because  1  have  been  insulted 
by  a  man  of  quality  !  People  go  so  far  as  to  find  fault  with  me  for 
correcting  the  public  of  the  false  impression  it  has  received,  while 
the  shameless  '  Gazette  de  Deux-ponts'  and  '  Gazette  de  HoUande' 
libel  me  in  a  scandaJous  manner,  in  order  to  serve  my  adversary  of 
quality.  A  little  more,  and  I  should  have  been  told  that  I  was  very 
insolent  to  be  insulted  in  every  possible  manner  by  a  man  of  quality ; 
for  what  does  the  phrase  mean  which  is  considered  a  sufficient  an- 
swer for  all  persons  interceding  in  my  behalf:  '  He  made  too  much 
fuss  about  the  affair  V  Could  I  do  less  than  ask  for  justice,  and  prove, 
from  the  actions  of  my  adversary,  that  I  was  not  to  blame  ?  What  a 
pretext  for  ruining  and  destroying  an  injured  man,  to  say,  '  He  has 
talked  about  the  affair  too  much ;'  as  if  it  were  possible  for  me  to 
speak  of  any  thing  else !  Receive  my  thanks,  sir,  for  having  com- 
municated to  me  this  refusal  and  this  remark  of  M.  la  Vrillieres ; 
and,  for  the  happiness  of  this  country,  may  your  powel-  be  one  day 
equal  to  your  wisdom  and  your  integrity !  There  will  then  be  no 
need  of  petitions  for  unhappy  men  to  present.  My  gratitude  is  equal 
to  the  profound  respect  with  which  I  am,  &c., 

.,.,    ..,.  ,~,o„  " Beacmarchais. 

"March  II,  1773." 

Mademoiselle  Menard  was  joining  her  solicitations  to  those 
of  Beaumarchais.  Let  us  quote,  in  reference  to  this  subject, 
another  letter  from  the  prisoner  to  M.  de  Sartines,  which  ap- 
pears to  us  rather  piquante  both  in  details  and  form : 

"  At  For-l'Eveque,  Sfarch  20,  1773. 

"  Sir, — M.  the  Duke  de  la  Vrilliere  said  to  Choisy  last  week  that 
I  ought  to  know  why  I  was  in  prison,  as  he  had  told  me  in  his  letter. 
The  truth  is,  that  I  have  received  neither  letter  nor  note  from  any 
one  on  the  subject  of  my  detention.  I  am  allowed  the  privilege  of 
guessing  the  cause  if  I  can,  according  to  the  custom  of  the  Roman 
Inquisition. 

"Madame  Menard  only  told  me  yesterday,  through  one  of  her 
friends,  that  you  had  kindly  promised  her  to  make  a  fresh  effort  with 
the  minister  in  my  favor  next  Sunday ;  but  the  mysterious  manner 
in  which  the  information  was  given  to  me  might  almost  make  me 

*  I  have  said  elsewhere  that  Beaamarchais  was  a  pagan  in  love.  He 
was  a  pagan,  to  some  extent,  in  every  thing,  without  being  aware  of  it ; 
for  he  here  writes  quite  naturally  "  great  gods !"  in  the  ploral,  as  Hor- 
ace or  TibuUas  might  exclaim  "Dii  immortales!" 


168  BEAUMAKCHAIS    AND   HIS   TIMES. 

/ 

doubt  its  truth,  for  the  good  little  girl  conveyed  it  with  all  the  pretty 
and  puerile  mignardises  with  which  her  sex  season  the  slightest  hu- 
vors.  If  I  am  to  believe  her,  it  is  necessary  to  have  a  special  order 
to  see  me,  witnesses  to  accompany  her,  permissions  to  write  to  me, 
and  even  to  take  precautions  in  venturing  to  correspond  with  me  by 
means  of  a  third  party.  Through  all  this,  however,  agnosco  veteris 
vestigia  flammcB,  and  I  can  not  help  smiling  at  this  mixture  of  child- 
ishness and  kindly  interest.  The  idea  of  persuading  me  that  the 
minister  does  me  the  favor  to  pay  me  the  most  severe  attention,  even 
to  my  intimacies !  Does  the  tennis-player,  in  handling  the  balls,  in- 
quire of  what  the  interior  is  made  1 

"  However  this  may  be,  sir,  I  renew  my  anxious  prayers  that  you 
will  call  the  attention  of  the  minister  to  the  fearful  injury  which  may 
result  to  me  from  not  making  a  personal  solicitation  in  the  La  Blache 
case,  and  I  oflfer  you  my  most  sincere  thanks  if  you  have,  indeed, 
had  the  kindness  to  promise  Madame  Menard  to  do  so. 

"  I  venture  to  hope  that  you  will  not  tell  this  excellent  woman  that 
I  have  informed  you  of  the  importance  which  she  pretends  is  attach- 
ed to  the  frivolous  steps  she  takes  in  so  important  an  affair,  in  which 
the  question  is  no  less  a  one  than  that  of  the  detention  of  a  citizen 
who  has  been  insulted,  grievously  insulted,  who  is  a  plaintiff  not  yet 
heard,  and  who  is  thrown  by  the  authorities  in  prison,  and  left  there 
to  rot  and  be  ruined. 

"  The  more  this  amiable  child  endeavors  to  make  me  believe,  the 
less  would  she  pardon  me  for  doubting  what  she  says,  above  all  for 
informing  you  of  it,  and,  as  Ovid  or  Propertius  says,  nuUcB  sunt  ini- 
micitt(Z  nisi  amons  acerbcB ;  but  I  perceive  that  in  blaming  her  I 
behave  like  herself,  and  that  I  indiscreetly  mix  up  trifling  matters 
with  the  most  serious  requests.  I  stop,  and  am,  with  the  most  pro- 
found respect,  sir,  your  very  humble  and  obedient  servant, 

"  Beaumarchais." 

This  correspondence,  in  which  Beaumarchais  associated  Vir- 
gU,  Ovid,  Propertius,  and  Mademoiselle  Menard  in  defense  of 
his  citizen's  rights,  doubtless  amused  M.  de  Sartines,  but  in  no 
way  advanced  the  interests  of  the  prisoner.  What  the  Duke 
de  la  Vrilhere  required  from  him,  before  every  thing,  was,  that 
he  should  cease  to  be  insolent,  that  is  to  say,  to  ask  for  justice, 
and  that  he  should  make  up  his  mind  to  ask  for  pardon.  He 
had  held  up  for  nearly  a  month,  until  the  20th  oflVIarch,  when, 
on  that  very  day,  he  received  a  long  letter,  without  a  signature, 
written  by  a  man  who  appeared  to  take  a  great  interest  in  him, 
and  who  endeavored  to  make  him  understand  that,  under  an 


BEAUJIAKCUAIS    GIVES   IN.  169 

absolute  government,  when  the  disgrace  of  a  minister  has  been 
incurred,  when  this  minister  is  keeping  you  in  prison,  and  when 
you  have  the  greatest  interest  in  getting  out  of  prison,  the  thing 
is  not  to  plead  in  the  character  of  an  oppressed  citizen,  but  to 
^submit  to  the  law  of  might,  and  assume  the  character  of  the 
supplicant.  What  was  Beaumarchais  to  do  ?  He  was  on  the 
point  of  losing  a  lawsuit  of  the  greatest  importance  to  his  for- 
tune and  honor ;  his  liberty  was  in  the  hands  of  a  man  who 
was  personally  far  from  estimable,  for  the  Duke  de  la  Vrilliere 
is  one  of  the  ministers  most  justly  despised  in  histoiy ;  but  the 
situation  was  such  that  this  man  could  dispose  of  his  destiny 
as  he  thought  fit.  Beaumarchais  at  last  became  resigned  and 
humbled  himself.  Here  we  have  him  in  the  position  of  a  sup- 
plicant : 

"  Monseigneur, — The  dreadful  affair  of  the  Duke  de  Chaulnes  has 
resulted  for  me  in  a  chain  of  misfortunes  without  end,  and  the  great- 
est of  all  is  that  of  having  incurred  your  displeasure  ;  but  if,  in  spite 
of  the  purity  of  my  intentions,  the  grief  by  which  I  am  distracted  has 
carried  me  away,  and  induced  me  to  take  steps  which  may  have  dis- 
pleased you,  I  disavow  them  at  your  feet,  Monseigneur,  and  beg  you 
to  grant  me  your  generous  pardon  ;  or  if  I  appear  to  you  to  deserve 
a  longer  term  of  imprisonment,  permit  me  only  to  go  out  for  some 
days,  in  order  to  instruct  my  judges  with  regard  to  an  affair  which  is 
of  the  greatest  importance  to  my  fortune  and  honor,  and  after  its  de- 
cision I  will  submit  with  gratitude  to  whatever  punishment  yoji  may 
impose  upon  me.  The  whole  of  my  family,  in  tears,  join  their  pray- 
ers to  mine.  Every  one,  Monseigneur,  praises  your  indulgence  and 
the  goodness  of  your  heart.  Shall  I  be  the  only  one  to  implore  you 
in  vain  ?  By  a  single  word  you  can  overwhelm  a  multitude  of  hon- 
est persons  with  joy,  whose  lively  gratitude  will  equal  the  very  pro- 
found respect  with  which  we  are  all,  and  myself  especially,  Mon- 
seigneur, yours,  &c.,  Caron  de  Beaumarchais. 

"  At  For-1'Eveque,  March  21,  1773." 

The  Duke  de  la  Vrilliere  was  satisfied  in  his  paltry  vanity ; 
accordingly,  he  did  not  delay  sending  an  answer.  The  next 
day,  March  22,  the  minister  forwarded  to  M.  de  Sartines  an 
authorization  allowing  the  prisoner  to  go  out,  under  the  con- 
duct of  a  police  agent,  obliging  him,  at  the  same  time,  to  return 
to  For-l'Eveque  to  sleep. 

In  case  the  reader  should  happen  not  to  consider  Beaumar- 
chais sufficiently  heroic,  I  will  obsci've  that  the  Duke  de  Chaul- 

H 


170  BEAUMARCHAIS    AND    HIS    TIMES. 

nes,  imprisoned,  on  his  side,  at  Vincennes,  whose  correspond- 
ence is  also  beneath  my  eyes,  was  not  more  so.  By  a  some- 
what strange  coincidence,  he  also  had  a  lawsuit  to  follow  up, 
and  aiFairs  to  transact,  and  his  letters  to  the  Duke  de  la  Vril- 
liere  are  not  less  plaintive  than  those  of  Beaumarchais.  Like 
the  latter,  he  is  allowed  to  go  out,  under  the  conduct  of  a  po- 
lice agent,  on  condition  that  he  will  leave  his  rival  in  peace, 
and  will  not  go  to  see  Mademoiselle  Menard  contrary  to  her 
wishes.  The  person  charged  with  surveillance  of  all  these 
"important  interests"  is  M.  de  Sartines,  who  receives  simul- 
taneously the  alternately  facetious  and  despondent  notes  of 
Beaumarchais,  and  the  "  unedifying  sighs"  of  the  Duke  de 
Chaulnes. 

Let  us  return  to  Beaumarchais,  who  profited  by  his  half- 
liberty  to  go,  as  was  the  custom  then,  and  solicit  his  judges. 
Before  showing  how  he  lost  his  lawsuit,  let  me  be  allowed  to 
extract  once  more  from  his  prison  correspondence  a  somewhat 
graceful  little  incident  in  which  he  appears  in  a  very  pleasing 
light.  I  have  elsewhere  stated  that  he  was  on  an  intimate 
footing  with  M.  Lenormant  D'Etioles,  the  husband  of  Madame 
de  Pompadour,  who,  after  the  death  of  his  first  wife,  had  mar- 
ried again,  and  who  had  a  charming  child  six  years  and  a  half 
old.  This  little  boy,  who  was  named  Constant,  was  very 
fond  of  Beaumarchais,  and  on  hearing  that  his  friend  was  in 
prison,  he  wrote  to  him,  of  his  own  accord,  the  following  letter : 

"  Neuilly,  March  2, 1773. 

"  Sir, — I  send  you  my  purse,  because  people  in  prison  are  always 
poor.  I  am  very  sorry  you  are  in  prison.  Every  morning  and  every 
evening  I  say  an  Ave  Maria  for  you. 

"  1  have  the  honor  to  be,  sir,  your  very  humble  and  very  obedient 
servant.  Constant." 

Beaumarchais  replied  immediately  to  the  mother  and  child 
by  two  letters,  in  which  all  his  good  nature  and  delicacy  of 
feeling  are  shown.  Here  is,  first  of  all,  his  letter  to  Madame 
Lenormant : 

"  I  thank  you  very  sincerely,  madame,  for  having  conveyed  to  roe 
the  letter  and  purse  of  my  little  friend  Constant.  These  are  the  first 
promptings  of  benevolence  on  the  part  of  a  young  nature  from  which 
excellent  things  may  be  expected.     Do  not  give  him  back  his  own 


A   LETTEE   TO   A   CHILD.  171 

purse,  so  that  he  may  not  conclude  that  all  sacrifices  bring  with  them 
this  species  of  reward.  It  will  be  very  gratifying  to  him  one  day  to 
see  it  in  your  hands,  as  a  memorial  of  the  affectionate  kindness  of 
his  generous  heart.  Compensate  him  in  a  manner  which  will  give 
him  a  just  idea  of  the  nature  of  his  action,  without  allowing  himself 
to  become  proud  of  having  done  it.  But  I  do  not  know  what  I  am 
saying  when  I  make  these  observations.  Your  care  has  originated 
and  developed  in  him  so  great  a  quality  as  that  of  beneficence  at  an 
age  when  all  morality  consists  in  referring  things  to  one's  own  inter- 
est. Receive  my  thanks  and  compliments.  Allow  M.  I'Abbe  Le- 
roux*  to  share  them ;  he  is  not  contented  with  teaching  his  pupils 
to  decline  the  word  virtue,  he  also  teaches  them  to  love  it ;  he  is  full 
of  merit,  and  more  fitted  than  any  other  man  to  second  your  views. 
This  letter  and  this  purse  have  produced  quite  a  child's  delight  in 
myself.  Happy  parents !  you  have  a  son  six  years  of  age  capable 
of  such  an  action.  And  I  also  had  a  son  ;  but  he  is  no  more  !  And 
yours  already  gives  you  such  pleasures !  I  sliare  them  with  all  my 
heart,  and  1  beg  that  you  will  continue  to  have  a  little  affection  for 
him  who  has  been  the  cause  of  this  charming  trait  on  the  part  of  our 
little  Constant.  Nothing  can  be  added  to  the  respectful  attachment 
of  him  who  makes  it  his  honor  to  be,  madame,  &c. 
"At  For-l'EvCque,  March  4,  1773." 

Now  comes  the  answer  to  little  Constant : 

"  My  little  friend  Constant, — I  have  received  with  much  gratitude 
your  letter  and  the  purse  you  added  to  it ;  I  have  made  a  just  divis- 
ion of  what  they  contained,  according  to  the  different  wants  of  my 
fellow-prisoners  and  myself,  keeping  the  best  portion  for  your  friend 
Beaumarchais — I  mean  the  prayers,  the  Aves,  of  which  I  have  cer- 
tainly great  need,  and  distributing  to  poor  people,  who  were  in  dis- 
tress, all  the  money  your  purse  contained.  Thus,  while  intending  to 
oblige  one  man  only,  you  have  earned  the  gratitude  of  many.  This 
is  the  ordinary  fruit  of  actions  like  yours.  Good-by,  my  little  friend 
Constant,  Beaumarchais." 

This  is  the  man  whom  the  Count  la  Blache  charitably  en- 
titled a  "  finished  monster,"  a  "  venomous  species  of  being,  of 
which  society  ought  and  must  be  purged;"  and  at  the  time 
the  count  spoke  thus,  his  opinion  was  almost  universally  adopt- 
ed. It  was  in  vain  that  Beaumarchais,  followed  by  his  guard, 
and  coming  back  every  evening  to  prison,  passed  the  day  in 
running  about  to  the  residences  of  his  judges ;  the  discredit 
which  was  then  attached  to  his  name  followed  him  every 

*  This  was  little  Constant's  preceptor. 


172  BEAUMARCHAIS  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

where.  Under  the  influence  of  this  discredit,  and  on  the  re- 
port of  the  councilor  Goezman,  the  Parliament  decided  at 
length  between  him  and  M.  de  la  Blache,  and,  April  G,  1773, 
gave  a  judgment  which  was  extraordinary  in  a  legal  point  of 
view ;  this  judgment,  overruling  that  of  the  lower  court,  de- 
clared to  be  null  and  void  an  act  which  had  been  signed  of 
their  o^vn  free  will  by  two  majors,  without  any  necessity  ex- 
isting, said  the  sentence,  "  for  letters  of  rescision ;"  that  is  to 
say,  that  the  question  of  fi*aud,  surprise,  or  error  being  put  on 
one  side,  Bearmarchais  found  himself  declared  indirectly  a 
forger,  although  there  was  no  accusation  of  forgery  against 
him.  And  in  order  that  no  doubt  might  exist  as  to  the  mean- 
ing of  the  decision,  it  was  subsequently  explained  as  follows 
by  the  judge  Goezman,  who  had  induced  the  decision,  and 
who  wiU  soon  appear  as  the  personal  adversary  of  the  litigant 
whom  he  had  already  sacrificed.  "  The  Parliament,"  he  said, 
"  has  thereby  decided,  not  exactly  that  the  engagements  which 
this  writing  appeared  to  attribute  to  M.  Paris  du  Vemey 
were  the  effect  of  fraud,  surprise,  or  error,  but  that  they  were 
certainly  not  made  by  M.  du  Vemey ;  in  one  word,  that  the 
writing  which  appears  above  the  signature  has  been  produced 
without  his  having  had  any  thing  to  do  with  it ;  and  as  M. 
Caron  admits  that  this  writing  is  entirely  in  his  hand,  it  fol- 
lows that  he  is  declared  to  have  fabricated  a  fraudulent  doc- 
ument." While  this  decision  disgraced  Beaumarchais,  it  at 
the  same  time  gave  a  heavy  blow  to  his  fortune.  The  Par- 
liament had  not  dared  to  give  M.  de  la  Blache,  as  he  had  de- 
manded, all  the  claims  which  appeared  in  the  statement  of 
accounts  declared  null:  the  injustice  would  have  been  too 
flagrant ;  but  it  condemned  his  adversary  to  pay  the  56,300 
livres  of  debts  which  the  statement  of  accounts  annulled,  the 
interest  on  these  debts  for  five  years,  and  the  expenses  of  the 
action.  Beaumarchais  exaggerates  a  little  in  his  Memorials 
against  Goezman  when  he  says  the  action  cost  him  50,000 
crowns  ;  it  cost  him  less,  but  sufiicient  to  crush  him,  particu- 
larly as  at  the  very  moment  when  the  Count  de  la  Blache 
seized  all  his  goods  and  income,  other  pretended  creditors,  with 
no  more  real  claims  than  the  count,  but  enticed  by  his  success, 
united  their  prosecutions  to  his ;  and  this  man,  attacked  by  so 


BEAUMARCHAIS   IN   DESPAIR.  173 

many  disasters  at  once,  obliged  to  make  head  against  them  all, 
and  to  support  his  father,  his  sisters,  and  his  nieces,  petitioned 
with  the  greatest  earnestness,  but  in  vain,  that  his  prison  doors 
might  be  opened. 

"  My  courage  is  exhausted,"  he  writes,  April  9,  1773,  to  M.  de 
Sartines.  "  The  pubUc  report  is  that  I  am  entirely  sacrificed ;  my 
credit  has  fallen,  my  affairs  have  been  ruined  ;  my  family,  of  whotn  I 
am  the  father  and  the  support,  is  in  the  greatest  distress.  Sir,  I  have 
done  good  throughout  my  life,  without  ostentation,  and  have  always 
been  torn  to  pieces  by  the  wicked.  If  you  were  acquainted  with  the 
interior  of  my  home,  you  would  see  that,  as  a  good  son,  a  good 
brother,  a  good  husband,  and  a  useful  citizen,  I  have  collected  noth- 
ing but  blessings  around  me ;  while  abroad,  1  have  been  calumniated 
without  shame.  Whatever  revenge  may  be  taken  upon  me  for  this 
miserable  affair  of  the  Duke  de  Chaulnes,  is  it  not  to  have  some 
bounds  1  It  is  fully  proved  that  my  imprisonment  costs  me  100,000 
francs.  The  substance,  the  form,  every  thing  in  this  unjust  decision, 
causes  shudders,  and  I  can  not  recover  from  its  effect  as  long  as  I 
am  kept  in  a  horrible  prison.  I  have  sufficient  strength  to  resist  my 
own  misfortunes ;  I  have  none  to  oppose  to  the  tears  of  my  worthy 
father,  who  is  seventy-five  years  old,  and  who  is  dying  from  grief  at 
the  abject  condition  into  which  I  have  fallen ;  I  have  none  against 
the  grief  of  my  sisters  and  nieces,  who  are  already  terrified  by  the 
poverty  in  store  for  them,  owing  to  the  state  in  which  my  detention 
has  thrown  me  personally,  and  the  disorder  into  which  it  has  plunged 
my  affairs.  All  the  activity  of  my  mind  turns  now  against  myself; 
my  situation  is  killing  me ;  I  am  struggHng  against  an  acute  disease, 
of  which  I  feel  the  premonitory  symptoms  in  inability  to  sleep  and 
distaste  for  every  kind  of  food ;  the  atmosphere  of  my  prison  is  in- 
fected, and  is  destroying  my  wretched  health." 

The  reader  sees  that  there  is  no  exaggeration  in  the  eloquent 
pages  of  the  Memorials  against  Goezman,  in  which,  at  a  later 
period,  Beaumarchais  represents  his  situation  in  prison.  They 
are  but  a  more  ornate  reproduction  of  the  complaints  this  sit- 
uation draws  from  him  in  the  unpublished  letter  we  have  just 
given. 

The  minister.  La  Vrilliere,  was  at  last  moved,  and  on  the 
8th  May,  1773,  after  an  imprisonment  of  two  months  and  a 
half,  without  cause,  restored  the  prisoner  to  liberty.  And 
now  from  this  lawsuit,  which  he  lost,  arises  a  new,  a  more  ter- 
rible lawsuit,  which  was  calculated  to  complete  Beaumarchais' 


174  BEAUMABCHAIS  AND  HIS  TIMES- 

ruin,  but  which  saved  him,  which  made  him  pass,  in  a  few 
months,  from  a  state  of  dejection  and  misfortmie,  in  which,  to 
employ  his  own  expressions,  he  felt  shame  and  pity  for  him- 
self, to  that  of  a  man  triumphing  over  a  Parliament,  and  the 
favorite  of  an  entire  nation.  "  He  was,"  said  Grimm,  "  the 
horror  of  aU  Paris  a  year  since ;  every  one,  upon  the  mere 
word  of  his  neighbor,  thought  him  capable  of  the  greatest 
crimes :  at  present,  eveiy  one  is  full  of  his  virtues."  It  re- 
mains to  us  to  explain  how  this  revulsion  in  opinion  took  place. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

The  Manpeou  Parliament. — ^Beaumarchais'  Action  against  Goezman. 

The  Goezman  lawsuit  opens  the  brilliant  period  of  Beau- 
marchais'  life.  By  turns  a  courtier,  a  speculator,  and  a  play- 
wright, the  son  of  Caron  the  watchmaker,  in  all  these  differ- 
ent paths,  had,  as  yet,  only  met  with  doubtful,  disputed  suc- 
cess, and  the  most  ardent  enmity.  He  was  at  last  about  to 
conquer  fortune  and  regain  a  lengthened  popularity,  and  to 
associate  his  name  with  an  important  fact  in  the  history  of 
our  country. 

What  was  the  subject  of  this  famous  quarrel  between  Beau- 
marchais  and  the  councilor  Goezman  ?  It  all  depended  upon 
whether  the  wife  of  a  judge  had  or  had  not  received  fifteen 
louis  from  one  of  the  parties  to  a  suit. 

It  will  be  remembered  what  the  situation  of  the  author  of 
"The  Barber  of  Seville"  was  in  April,  1773,  when  his  action 
against  the  Count 'de  la  Blache  was  under  the  consideration 
of  the  court  of  appeal.  Imprisoned  at  For-l'Eveque,  he  had 
obtained,  as  the  period  for  giving  judgment  drew  near,  per- 
mission to  go  out  during  the  day  to  have  interviews  with  his 
judges,  according  to  the  custom  of  the  period.  The  affair 
had  been  deliberated  upon,  and  was  to  be  decided  from  the 
report  of  a  councilor  named  Goezman.  This  Goezman,  who 
was  first  a  councilor  at  the  Supreme  Council  of  Alsace,  had 
Bold  his  appointment,  and  in  1765  had  come  to  Paris,  where 
he  established  himself.     He  was  a  jurisconsult  of  some  learn- 


MADAME    GOEZilAN   AND  THE   BRIBE.  175 

ing ;  among  otlier  works  he  had  published  a  "  Treatise  on  the 
Common  Liiw  of  Fiefs,"  which  was  not  without  merit.  But 
to  judge  of  him  by  various  particulars  which  I  find  among 
Beaumarchais'  papers,  whether  the  value  of  his  appointment 
in  Alsace  did  not  belong  to  him,  or  whether  it  had  been  dis- 
sipated by  him,  it  would  appear  that  the  life  he  led  in  Paris 
was  to  some-  extent  that  of  an  adventurer,  and  rather  ques- 
tionable as  regarded  its  morality,  when  the  Maupeou  chancel- 
lor introduced  him  in  1771  into  the  ill-received  body  which 
he  had  just  established  in  place  of  the  old  Parliament.  This 
judge  had  married  for  his  second  wife  a  woman  who  was 
still  young  and  sufficiently  pretty,  and  whose  conversation  was 
calculated  to  do  little  honor  to  her  husband's  honesty  and  her 
own,  for  it  was  proved  in  the  course  of  the  lawsuit  of  which 
we  are  about  to  give  an  account  that  she  had  said  before  wit- 
nesses, "  It  would  be  imposdble  to  live  decently  with  what 
we  get,  but  we  know  the  art  of  plucking  the  fowl  without 
making  it  cry  out."  It  can  be  seen  that  if  the  Chancellor 
Maupeou  suppressed  the  gratuities,  some  of  the  new  magis- 
trates possessed  the  secret  of  replacing  them  with  advantage. 
Remarks  of  the  above  nature  were  frequently  made  by  Mad- 
ame Groezman  at  the  house  of  a  librarian  named  Lejay,  who 
sold  the  works  of  the  husband,  and  received  the  visits  of  the 
wife.  This  librarian,  who  did  not  know  Beaumarchais,  hear- 
ing from  a  mutual  friend  that  he  was  in  despair  at  not  being 
able  to  gain  access  to  the  reporter,  informed  him  that  the  only 
means  of  obtaining  audiences  from,  and  insuring  the  equity 
of  the  judge  who  had  to  prepare  the  report,  was  by  making  a 
present  to  his  wife,  and  he  accordingly  asked  for  200  louis  to 
give  her.  Beaumarchais  gave  100  louis,  and  a  watch  adorned 
with  diamonds  of  equal  value ;  Madame  Goezman  wanted 
fifteen  louis  more,  which  she  said  were  for  her  husband's  sec- 
retary. The  fifteen  louis  were  sent ;  the  lady  declared  to 
Lejay  that,  if  Beaumarchais  lost  his  action,  all  he  gave  would 
be  restored  to  him  except  the  fifteen  louis,  which  in  any  case 
would  remain  the  property  of  the  secretary.  The  day  after- 
ward Beaumarchais  obtained  an  audience  from  the  reporter 
Goezman  ;  two  days  after  that  this  judge  decided  against  him. 
Madame  Goezman  returned  fjaithfully  the  hundred  louis  and 


176  BEAUMAKCHAIS    A>T)    HIS    TIMES. 

the  watch ;  but  Beaumarchais  having  inquired  of  the  secre- 
tary, to  whom  in  the  course  of  the  trial  he  had  ah-eady  given 
ten  louis,  whether  he  had  received  in  addition  fifteen  louis 
from  Madame  Goezman,  ascertained  that  she  had  given  noth- 
ing' to  him,  and  that  the  fifteen  louis  had  remained  in  her 
pocket.  Irritated  already  by  the  loss  of  an  action  which  was 
equally  important  to  his  fortune  and  his  honor,  he  disapproved 
of  Madame  Goezman  indulging  in  so  dishonest  a  speculation, 
and  decided  to  write  to  her  and  claim  the  fifteen  louis.  This 
was  a  grave  step  ;  for  if  the  councilor's  wife  refused  to  restore 
the  money  and  denied  having  received  it,  if  Beaumarchais  in- 
sisted upon  having  it,  and  if  the  affair  made  a  noise,  a  very 
dangerous  quarrel  might  arise  out  of  it.  But  the  step,  with 
its  dangers,  also  presented  its  advantages :  persuaded,  with  or 
without  reason,  that  the  Count  de  la  Blache  had  given  more 
money  than  himself  to  the  Councilor  Goezman,  Beaumarchais, 
in  meeting  the  danger  of  a  personal  dispute  with  this  magis- 
trate, hoped  to  convict  him  of  venality,  and  thus,  with  great- 
er ease,  get  the  judgment  which  had  been  made  upon  his  re- 
port annulled.  What  he  had  foreseen  took  place :  Madame 
de  Goezman,  obliged  either  to  admit  the  misappropriation  of 
the  fifteen  louis,  and  restore  them^  or  to  deny  that  she  had 
received  them,  took  the  latter  course.  She  declared  loudly 
that  presents  had  been  offered  to  her  by  Beaumarchais  with 
a  view  of  gaining  her  husband's  interest,  but  that  she  had 
refused  his  criminal  offer.  Goezman  interfered,  and  de- 
nounced Beaumarchais  to  the  Parliament  as  guilty  of  having 
calumniated  the  wife  of  a  judge,  after  having  vainly  endeav- 
ored to  corrupt  her,  and,  through  her,  to  corrupt  her  husband. 
As  the  fact  of  the  presents  having  been  accepted  and  kept 
until  after  the  decision  of  the  La  Blache  suit,  and  of  the  fif- 
teen louis  having  been  asked  for  and  retained  by  Madame 
Groezman,  was  proved  in  the  clearest  manner  by  judicial  in- 
vestigation, it  is  difficult  to  understand  how  the  husband  of 
this  lady  had  the  imprudence  to  institute  such  an  action.  It 
may  be  supposed  that,  in  the  first  instance,  he  was  ignorant 
of  the  shameful  traffic  which  his  wife  had  been  pursuing ;  it 
may  be  supposed  that  the  latter,  when  she  took  the  100  louis 
and  the  watch,  and  still  required  fifteen  louis  more,  had  said 


MADAME   GOEZMAN   AND   THE  BBIBE.  177 

to  herself,  "  I  shall  not  speak  about  the  matter  to  my  hus- 
band ;  if  he  decides  in  favor  of  Beaumarchais  and  makes  him 
gain  his  action,  the  latter,  delighted  with  the  result,  will  keep 
the  secret,  I  shall  retain  the  whole,  and  my  husband,  who 
otherwise  is  ignorant  of  what  has  taken  place  between  us, 
will  not  be  compromised.  If,  on  the  other  hand,  my  husband 
is  unfavorable  to  Beaumarchais,  and  he  loses  his  action,  I  will 
restore  him  the  100  louis  and  the  watch ;  as  it  is  agreed  that 
the  fifteen  louis,  which  I  have  said  were  destined  for  my  hus- 
band's secretary,  can  not  be  claimed  back,  even  in  case  of  the 
action  being  lost,  I  wiU  keep  them  for  myself,  so  that  in  any 
case  there  will  be  a  slight  profit.  Even  if  Beaumarchais 
should  happen  to  hear  that  these  fifteen  louis  had  not  been 
disposed  of  in  the  manner  stated,  he  would  not  dare  to  claim 
the  return  of  such  a  petty  sum,  which  in  any  case  was  to 
cease  to  be  his,  and  to  expose  himself  to  a  grave  accusation ; 
if  he  dared  to  do  so,  I  would  tell  my  husband  that  he  tried  to 
corrupt  me,  and  that  I  had  repelled  his  oflfers  of  bribery,  as 
would  be  proved  by  my  having  sent  back  the  100  louis  and 
the  watch ;  tliat,  as  for  the  fifteen  louis  which  he  claims,  it  is 
a  mere  fable  which  he  has  invented  in  revenge  for  not  having 
succeeded  in  bribing  me;  and  as  it  is  scarcely  natural  that 
the  wife  of  a  councilor  of  the  Parliament,  who  sends  back  100 
louis  and  a  watch  of  the  same  value,  would  persist  in  keeping 
fifteen  louis,*  my  husband  will  not  doubt  my  veracity,  and 
will  have  Beaumarchais  punished." 

Such  a  train  of  reasoning  as  this  would  be  nothing  aston- 
ishing in  the  case  of  a  woman  who  was  as  thoughtless  as  she 
was  rapacious  and  vulgar ;  but  it  is  far  less  probable  that  the 
councilor  Goezman,  a  man  who  had  seen  life,  and  who  was 
an  experienced  criminal  lawyer,  could  have  been  deceived  by 

*  The  improbability  of  this  is  in  fact  one  of  the  principal  arguments 
which  Madame  Groezman  used  in  her  defense.  But  she  had  bejnm  by 
concealing  the  fact  that  she  had  kept  the  hundred  louis  two  days,  and 
had  only  restored  them  after  the  decision  of  the  action  ;  and  when  the 
retractation  of  the  bookseller  Lejay,  who  in  the  first  instance  stated  a 
falsehood,  at  the  instigation  of  her  husband,  obliged  her  to  confess  this 
fact,  she  declared  that  Lejay  left  the  100  louis  without  her  knowledge 
in  a  flower-case  which  stood  on  the  mantel-piece.  It  need  not  be  said 
that  Lejay  refuted  her  on  this  point,  as  on  all  others. 


178  BEAUMAKCHAIS   AND   HIS  TIMES. 

his  wife's  reasoning,  and  that  upon  her  simple  affirmation  he 
could  have  been  led  to  believe  that  Beaumarchais  was  mad 
enough  to  lay  himself  open  to  an  inevitable  condemnation  by 
daring  to  claim  fifteen  louis  which  had  not  been  received,  and 
kept  by  Madame  Goezman.  It  appears  to  me,  beyond  doubt, 
then,  that  directly  he  heard  of  Beaumarchais'  claim,  Goez- 
man, by  interrogating  the  different  persons  who  had  been 
mixed  up  with  all  this  huckstering,  must  have  convinced  him- 
self that  his  wife  had  compromised  herself  in  a  grave  manner. 
Once  compromised,  however,  by  her,  he  had  to  choose  between 
certain  courses  of  action,  all  of  which,  in  the  case  of  a  discon- 
tented and  indiscreet  suitor,  appeared  likely  to  damage  his 
reputation:  the  one  on  which  he  ultimately  determined  was 
incontestably  the  boldest,  but  also  the  most  unjust  of  all. 
Starting  from  the  idea  that  Beaumarchais  was  not  powerful 
enough  to  resist  him,  he  imagined  that,  by  taking  the  initia- 
tive in  the  contest,  and  manoeuvTing  so  as  to  prevent  the  truth 
from  becoming  apparent,  he  could  at  the  same  time  ruin  the 
person  who  had  given  the  fifteen  louis,  and  save  the  one  who, 
after  asking  for  them  to  give  to  another,  had  appropriated  them 
to  her  own  benefit.  It  will  be  seen  directly  how  Goezman's 
plans  were  disconcerted,  and  how  severely  they  were  punished. 
What  confirms  me  in  my  opinion  that  this  magistrate  acted 
in  bad  faith  from  the  moment  of  the  accusation  is  not  only 
the  result  of  the  action,  after  which  he  received  the  condem- 
nation of  his  colleagues  and  was  obliged  to  quit  his  office — for 
they  might  only  have  wished  to  visit  the  faults  of  his  wife  on 
his  own  want  of  skill — but  in  the  papers  subsequently  given 
up  to  Beaumarchais  by  M.  de  Sartines  I  find  it  proved  that, 
before  having  recourse  to  the  Parliament,  Goezman  tried  to 
get  rid  of  this  importunate  suitor  by  means  of  a  lettre  de  ca- 
chet, and  that  for  an  instant  he  really  hoped  this  trifling  serv- 
ice would  be  rendered  to  him,  for  on  the  5  th  June,  1773,  he 
wrote  to  M.  de  Sartines  the  following  note : 

"  I  beg  that  the  punishment  may  appear  to  proceed,  in  a  suffi- 
ciently evident  manner,  from  the  insult  offered  to  my  wife,  and  in- 
directly to  myself.  WUl  you  be  kind  enough  to  inform  me  to-mor- 
row what  course  has  been  adopted,  and  rely  on  my  eternal  devotion?" 

As  the  government  did  not  dare  to  risk  such  an  injustice, 


BEAUMABCHAIS'    DISREPUTE.  179 

and  as  the  story  of  the  fifteen  louis  was  beginning  to  be  spread 
about,  even  in  the  Palais  de  Justice  itself,  the  councilor  Goez- 
man  took  precautions  to  render  the  attack  irresistible.  He 
summoned  the  bookseller  Lejay,  who  had  been  his  wife's  agent, 
and,  after  frightening  him  by  threats,  and  reassuring  him  at 
the  same  time  as  to  the  consequences  of  the  deed  he  required 
from  him,  made  him  copy  the  minute  of  a  false  affidavit,  which 
he  had  prepared  himself,  and  in  which  Lejay,  corroborating 
the  falsehoods  of  JNIadame  Goezman,  declared  that  Beaumar- 
chais  had  urged  him  to  endeavor  to  corrupt  this  lady,  by  mak- 
ing her  offers  of  presents,  bufe  that  she  had  indignantly  rejected 
them  all.  Armed  with  this  false  affidavit,  he  decided  at  last 
to  call  down  the  vengeance  of  the  Parliament  on  the  head  of 
a  man  who  had  been  much  calumniated,  and  over  whom  he 
expected  to  gain  an  easy  triumph. 

Beaumarchais'  disrepute  was  indeed  at  its  height.  The 
judgment  given  in  the  La  Blache  suit,  in  accordance  with  the 
report  of  this  same  Goezman,  had  cast  a  stain  on  his  honor 
and  destroyed  his  fortune.  His  victorious  adversary  had  seized 
all  his  goods,  and  did  not  leave  him  a  moment's  repose.  Li 
the  midst  of  this  distress,  he  found  himself  charged  by  a  judge 
with  bribery  and  calumny  before  other  judges  who  were  in- 
terested in  finding  him  guilty.  This  new  prosecution,  being 
of  a  criminal  nature,  had,  according  to  the  laws  of  the  period, 
to  be  conducted  secretly,  and  decided  with  closed  doors.  The 
Maupeou  Parliament  could  not  do  othei"wise  than  hasten  to 
punish,  with  the  most  extreme  rigor,  a  prisoner  who  was 
brought  before  it  charged  with  actions  which  endangered  the 
dignity  and  very  existence  of  this  judicial  body,  already  the 
object  of  much  hatred  ;  and  criminal  jurisprudence  was  then 
allowed  a  frightful  latitude,  for,  in  the  case  of  a  person  chained 
■with  the  offense  in  question,  it  permitted  the  most  severe  pun- 
ishment, after  the  punishment  of  death,  omnia  citra  moi'tem. 

Beaumai'chais,  then,  had  reached  the  extreme  point,  in  ref- 
erence to  which  the  poet  has  said,  Una  saliis  victis  nullam  spe- 
rare  salutem.  Placed  between  two  chances — which  were  about 
equal — that  of  being  sacrificed  if  he  defended  himself  in  the 
regular  manner  before  his  judges,  and  that  of  obtaining  at 
least  spme  attention  if  he  succeeded  in  raising  public  opinion 


180  BEAUMAKCHAXS  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

in  his  favor,  he  did  not  hesitate.  While  the  most  clear-sighted 
had  still  doubts  about  that  growing  power,  opinion,  Beaumar- 
chais  had  no  doubts  at  all,  and  trusted  to  it  boldly.  No  ad- 
vocate dared  to  take  his  part  against  so  redoubtable  an  adver- 
sary as  Goezman ;  he  determined  to  be  his  own  advocate,  to 
plead  his  own  cause,  and  he  will  be  seen  to  plead  it  before  all 
the  world.  He  wiU  trample  under  foot  the  regulations  which 
order  criminal  prosecutions  to  be  kept  secret,  which  prevent 
the  judges  from  being  judged  by  the  nation,  and  while  prepa- 
rations are  being  made  for  stifling  him  in  the  dark,  he  will  in- 
troduce light  every  where,  and  will  summon  opinion  to  his 
aid ;  but,  in  order  that  public  opinion  may  reply  to  the  appeal 
df  a  man  who  is  unknown,  or  only  known  unfavorably,  it  is 
necessary  that  this  man  should  be  able  to  attract  readers,  re- 
tain them,  excite  their  passion,  their  indignation,  their  pity, 
and,  at  the  same  time,  amuse  them.  The  state  of  things  was 
such  that  Beaumarchais  was  obliged,  we  may  almost  say  un- 
der pain  of  death,  to  display  a  marvelous  talent  in  giving  to 
an  aflfair  which  was  qf  little  interest  in  itself  all  the  interest 
of  a  drama,  a  comedy,  and  a  romance.  If  he  contents  him- 
self with  discussing  the  question  in  a  becoming  manner,  if  he 
confines  himself  to  the  facts  of  his  case,  if  he  can  not  contrive 
to  connect  with  this  case  attractive  social  details  and  import- 
ant political  questions,  if  he  is  not,  at  the  same  time,  very  pa- 
thetic and  very  humorous ;  if,  in  a  word,  he  does  not  have  a 
popular  success,  he  is  lost:  the  new  Parliament  will  be  the 
more  unmerciful  toward  him,  inasmuch  as  he  has  shown  him- 
self mistrustful  of  the  justice  with  closed  doors  of  the  new 
Parliament ;  and  he  has  in  perspective — wnnia  citra  mortem. 

Such  an  alternative,  calculated  as  it  was  to  paralyze  an  or- 
dinary mind,  was  precisely  the  goad  which  urged  Beaumar- 
chais on,  and  gave  him  a  kind  of  fever,  which  can  be  per- 
ceived in  the  rapid  and  continuous  movement  of  his  style,  even 
in  the  argumentative  portions. 

In  a  legal  point  of  view^,  his  case  was  not  so  simple  as  was 
said  by  La  Harpe  and  other  writers,  who,  like  him,  have  pass- 
ed very  lightly  over  the  groundwork  of  the  matter.  To  re- 
pel the  accusation  of  calumny,  he  was  obliged  to  prove  that  he 
had  given  money  to  JMadame  Goezm3,n  j  and,  iq  this  case,  how 


BEAUMAECIIAIS'    DEFENSE.  181 

was  he  to  repel  the  accusation  of  bribery  ?  By  endeavoring 
to  estabhsh  that  he  did  not  wish  to  purchase  the  favor  of  the 
husband  when  he  gave  money  to  the  wife,  and  that  he  only 
wished  to  obtain  those  audiences  which  were  indispensable, 
which  he  could  legitimately  claim  from  the  justice  of  the  coun- 
cilor, and  on  which  his  wife  chose  to  set  a  pecuniary  price. 
But  the  judge,  at  the  commencement  of  the  action,  feeling  con- 
vinced that  his  wife  would  not  be  compromised,  endeavored, 
on  his  side,  to  prove  the  intention  to  bribe  ;  accordingly,  he 
did  not  fail  to  make  the  objection  that  it  was  scarcely  prob- 
able a  suitor  in  a  case  already  heard,  after  the  pleadings,  on 
the  eve  of  the  decision,  would  have  offered  to  the  wife  of  the 
reporter  100  louis,  a  watch  of  the  same  value,  and  15  louis^ 
that  is  to  say,  more  than  5000  francs — solely  to  obtain  the 
privilege  of  offering  a  few  observations  to  this  reporter,  who  was 
impartial.  Beaumarchais  replied  that  he  had  offered  nothing ; 
that  it  had  all  been  asked  for  ;  that  the  only  question  between 
him  and  Madame  Goezman  had  been  with  regard  to  audiences ; 
and  that  the  law  dealt  with  facts,  and  not  with  probabilities. 
Then,  turning  the  weapon  of  probability  with  deadly  skill 
against  the  accuser  himself,  he  showed  that  he  was  the  ac- 
complice of  his  wife,  that  he  was  very  open  to  the  suspicion 
of  having  sold  his  justice  to  the  highest  bidder,  and  that  he 
was  now  endeavoring  to  reduce  to  silence  and  to  annihilate 
the  suitor  whom  he  had  already  sacrificed.  Beaumarchais' 
intention  in  paying  Madame  Goezman  might  have  appeared 
equivocal ;  nevertheless,  one  thing  which  resulted  clearly  from 
the  debate  was,  that  if  there  had  been  any  idea  of  corruption, 
the  thought  had  proceeded,  not  from  Beaumarchais,  but  from 
the  Goezman  family ;  that  Beaumarchais,  who  knew  neither 
the  wife  of  the  judge  nor  the  bookseller  who  had  spoken  in 
her  name,  had  only  submitted  to  the  conditions  imposed  upon 
him  ;  and  when  the  accused,  breaking  through  all  the  artifices 
of  the  accuser,  and  forcing  the  witnesses  who  had  been  sub- 
orned either  to  retract  or  remain  silent,  and  those  who  had 
been  intimidated  to  speak,  succeeded  in  bringing  all  the  igno- 
ble and  odious  side  of  the  affair  to  light,  when  it  was  clearly 
shown  that  the  vvife  of  a  councilor  belonging  to  the  new  Par- 
liament had  basely  misappropriated  a  miserable  sum  of  fifteen 


182  BEAUMAKCHAIS    AND    HIS   TIMES. 

louis,  and  that  the  husband,  in  order  to  conceal  the  misappro- 
priation, was  pursuing  to  death  the  suitor  who  had  asked  to 
have  his  fifteen  louis  returned,  the  indignation  of  the  public 
against  Goezman  knew  no  bounds  ;  they  refused  to  look  upon 
hira  as  what  he  really,  I  think,  was  in  the  affair — a  magistrate 
involved  first  of  all  by  his  wife,  without  being  aware  of  it,  in 
an  awkward  matter,  and  who  afterward  endeavored  to  get  out 
of  it  per  fas  et  nefas;  they  refused  to  admit  that  he  was  a 
stranger  to  the  sordid  action,  which  Beaumarchais,  encouraged 
by  the  public,  did  not  fear  to  speak  of  before  the  assembled 
Parliament  as  an  act  of  swindling,  and  took  a  pleasure  in  cov- 
ering the  councilor  Goezman  and  the  detested  body  to  which 
he  belonged  with  the  same  contempt,  and  the  same  accusations 
of  dishonesty,  venality,  and  injustice.  This  last  was  the  dan- 
gerous point  of  the  discussion  ;  in  touching  upon  it  with  a  tal- 
ent which  exhibited  equal  audacity  and  prudence,  by  means 
of  the  most  transparent  allusions  and  the  most  deadly  reticence, 
this  Beaumarchais,  so  decried  the  day  before,  became  sudden- 
ly the  favored  organ  of  the  public  anger,  and  the  minister  of 
the  public  vengeance,  in  connection  with  the  coup  (Tetat  which 
had  destroyed  the  old  magistracy. 

To  the  political  interest  of  this  action  was  joined  the  inter- 
est, mingled  with  surprise,  which  was  excited  by  a  man  whose 
previous  works  had  appeared  mediocre,  exhibiting  the  most 
original,  the  most  varied  talent,  and  giving  to  his  judicial 
pleadings  every  kind  of  literary  beauty  and  ornament.  Enough 
has  been  said  in  regard  to  the  literary  merits  of  the  Memorials 
against  Goezman,  and  we  have  no  intention  of  dwelling  on  a 
worn-out  subject.  We  shall  only  endeavor  to  study  those  cel- 
ebrated polemics  under  their  least-known  aspect. 

On  reading  the  pleadings  of  Beaumarchais  now,  we  are 
sometimes  shocked  by  the  excessive  and  insulting  nature  of  his 
irony  and  invective.  An  eminent  critic,  who  is  an  exquisite 
appreciator  of  the  good  and  the  beautiful,  M.  Villemain,  ad- 
mires the  animated  and  versatile  eloquence  of  these  brilliant 
productions,  but  can  not  help  exclaiming  against  certain  por- 
tions, which,  he  says,  shock  our  ideas  of  decency  and  truth.* 

*  FraiKjaise  Cours  de  Litterature  —  Tableau  du  XVIII*  si^cle,  III" 
parte,  9«  109011. 


CENSORSHIP   OF   THE   PKESS.  183 

His  contemporaries  were,  however,  much  less  struck  than  our- 
selves with  the  violence  of  his  language,  which  proceeded  from 
two  causes — the  one  general,  the  other  particular. 

At  this  period  the  press  was  not  regulated,  and,  indeed,  was 
scarcely  tolerated  by  law ;  but  it  was  active  in  spite  of  legis- 
lation, under  the  influence  of  a  social  necessity,  which  is  more 
powerful  than  legislation,  and,  as  a  natural  consequence,  went 
beyond  bounds.  In  looking  over  the  licentious  and  unscru- 
pulous works  of  every  kind  which  circulated  every  where 
during  the  period  we  speak  of,  one  would  scarcely  suspect  that 
people  were  then  living,  as  regarded  the  press,  beneath  the  ef- 
fect of  a  certain  edict  of  1769,  which  admitted  no  compromise, 
since  it  condemned  simply  to  death  every  author  ofioritings  tend- 
ing to  excite  the  public  mind.  It  was  concluded  from  this  that 
dtdl  and  tedious  writers  were  alone  certain  not  to  be  hanged, 
and  every  one  wrote  without  paying  more  attention  to  the  edict 
than  if  it  had  never  existed.  Laws,  as  has  been  said  with 
reason,  which  are  in  open  contradiction  with  the  ideas  and 
manners  of  a  people,  are  soon  looked  upon  by  it  as  words,  and 
as  words  only. 

The  same  silent  system  which  it  was  vainly  endeavored  to  ap- 
ply to  public  affairs,  was  not  less  vainly  attempted  in  the  mat- 
ter of  judicial  proceedings.  The  law  courts  assumed  to  surround 
themselves  with  mystery,  like  the  government,  and  at  no  epoch 
did  more  scandalous  lawsuits  produce  more  offensive  and  ven- 
omous libels.  In  the  present  day,  when  the  system  of  publicity 
is  gaining  more  and  more  extension — in  the  present  day,  when 
it  is  in  general,  and,  with  the  exception  of  accidental  restric- 
tions, sanctioned  by  laws  which  regulate  without  stifling  it, 
through  constant  use  it  gets  to  be  used  with  moderation,  and 
finds  a  salutary  and  permanent  control  in  public  opinion. 
When  the  doors  of  the  tribunals  are  open  to  all,  when  every 
plaintiff"  and  every  defendant  can  say,  or  cause  to  be  said  pub- 
licly by  his  advocate,  whatever  is  important  to  his  case,  and 
when  there  are  journals  to  print  the  reports,  the  personal  state- 
ments which  were  exchanged  between  exasperated  suitors  have 
no  longer  any  meaning :  they  are  looked  upon  as  things  apart ; 
and  if  a  few  sometimes  appear,  they  always  exhibit  a  certain 
reserve.     All  polemic  writings,  on  the  contrary,  which  were 


184  BEAIIMARCHAIS  AND  HIS   TIMES. 

published  in  the  eighteenth  century,  acquired  from  the  very- 
fact  of  their  illegality  an  indecorousness  and  violence  of  style, 
which  produced  no  astonishment,  and  seemed  almost  excused 
by  the  prohibition  itself. 

Another  cause  which  made  the  public  look  upon  Beaumar- 
chais'  incisive  style  with  great  indulgence  was,  that,  if  he  was 
sometimes  violent,  his  adversaries,  whose  now  forgotten  Me- 
morials were  read  at  the  same  time  as  his  own,  were  remark- 
able for  a  violence  which  was  even  greater.  He  was  happy 
enough  to  have  to  fight  against  enemies  who,  besides  being 
very  ridiculous,  were  also  very  much  enraged  and  very  ma- 
licious, in  intention,  at  all  events.  "People  laughed,"  says 
La  Harpe,  vnth  justice,  "to  see  them  scarified,  for  they  had 
daggers  in  their  hands." 


CHAPTER  Xn. 

The  Memorials  of  Beaumarchais' Adversaries. — Goezman  suspended. — 
The  "Confrontation." — The  " Great  Bertrand." — Marin  the  "Gaze- 
tier  de  France." 

The  Memorials  of  Beaumarchais'  antagonists  have  become 
very  rare.  I  procured  them  in  order  to  get  at  the  true  aspect 
of  this  contest.  In  reading  them,  we  perceive  more  clearly  to 
how  great  a  degree  the  man  they  were  prosecuting  possessed 
the  genius  of  observation,  with  how  much  penetration  he  dis- 
cerned, with  what  justness  he  reproduced  the  exact  shade  of 
platitude,  cunning,  or  malice,  which  distinguished  each  of  his 
enemies.  It  is  seen,  also,  that,  taken  altogether,  the  modera- 
tion was  on  his  side ;  that  he  did  not  begin  to  make  desperate 
attacks  until  he  had  been  himself  attacked  beyond  bounds  and 
without  shame.  Thus,  in  his  first  Memorial,  he  contents  him- 
self with  exposing  the  facts  clearly  and  precisely ;  he  discusses 
the  question  of  right ;  repels  the  accusation  of  Goezman,  but 
is  very  reserved  in  his  language,  and  very  chary  of  personali- 
ties. Hardly  had  he  published  his  JNIemorial,  than  five  furious 
adversaries  rushed  almost  simultaneously  upon  him.  It  was 
not  till  then  that  he  crossed  swords,  and  took  the  oiFensivc 
with  a  vigor  wloich  went  on  increasing  until  he  had  stretched 


BEAUMAKCHAIS'    "  ATEOCITT."  185 

on  the  ground  the  five  champions  whom  we. are  abont  to  pass 
hastily  in  review. 

The  first  who  appears  is  Madame  Goezman,  who  writes 
under  her  husband's  dictation,  and  throws  at  Beaumarchais' 
head  a  quarto  of  seventy-four  pages,  bristling  with  law  terms 
and  Latin  quotations.  Nothing  can  be  more  heavy  or  more 
anomalous  than  this  language  uttered  by  a  lawyer  who  assumes 
the  mask  of  a  woman,  and  says,  "  I  have  taken  in  all  the  facts 
of  this  case,  as  far  as  it  is  in  ilm  'power  of  a  woman  to  do  so ;" 
or,  "  his  recrimination  must  then  be  rejected,  conformably  to 
that  law  which  I  have  heard  cited,  neganda  est  accusatis,  licentia 
criminandi"  Beaumarchais  sums  up  the  profound  stupidity 
of  this  document  very  wittily  when  he  exclaims,  "  An  ingenu- 
ous woman  is  announced  to  me,  and  I  am  introduced  to  a 
German  publicist."  But  if  the  Memorial  is  ridiculous  in  form, 
it  is  in  substance  extremely  violent.  "  My  mind" — it  is  thus 
that  Madame  Goezman  commences — "has  been  divided  be- 
tween astonishment,  surprise,  and  horror  in  reading  the  libel 
which  M.  Caron  has  just  spread  abroad.  The  audacity  of  the 
author  astonishes,  the  number  and  atrocity  of  his  impostures 
excite  surprise,  the  idea  he  gives  of  himself  produces  horror." 
When  it  is  reflected  that  the  honest  lady  who  speaks  thus  has 
in  her  drawer  the  fifteen  louis,  the  claiming  of  which  excites 
her  surprise,  her  astonishment,  and  her  horror,  one  is  inclined 
to  excuse  Beaumarchais  for  having  indulged  in  some  freedoms 
of  speech  in  reference  to  her.  It  is  well  known,  however,  with 
what  a  mixture  of  ironical  politeness  and  clenching  argument 
he  refutes,  irritates,  embarrasses,  compliments,  and  confounds 
Madame  Goezman.  Who  has  not  burst  into  a  laugh  on  read- 
ing the  excellent  comedy  scene  in  which  he  represents  himself 
conversing  with  her  before  the  registrar?  The  scene  is  so 
amusing  that  one  is  inclined  to  take  it  for  an  imaginr ry 
sketch  ;  it  is  nothing  of  the  kind,  however.  The  second  lie- 
niorial,  in  which  Madame  Goezman  replies  to  Beaumarchais' 
statement,  answers  completely  to  the  idea  he  gives  us  of  her. 
Here  we  have  no  longer  the  husband  speaking,  but  the  lady 
herself.  The  tone  is  quite  that  of  a  woman  in  a  passion :  "  I 
reproached  M.  Caron,"  she  says,  "  when  I  met  him,  with  being 
an  atrocious  man,  and  known  to  be  such.     The  epithet  appears 


186  BEAUMARCHAIS   AND    HIS   TIMES. 

to  have  offended  him ;  I  must  therefore  justify  it."  She  divides 
her  Memorial  into^rs^,  second,  third  atrocity,  and  after  this  beau- 
tiful division  concludes  in  these  words :  "  That  was  not  suffi- 
cient for  you,  atrocious  man  ;  you  dared,  in  the  presence  of 
the  commissary,  the  registrar,  and  another  person,  to  propose 
that  I  should  go  over  to  your  side,  to  endeavor  to  render  my 
husband  odious  in  my  sight.  Your  audacity  extended  even 
further :  you  dared  to  add  (why  am  I  obliged  to  recall  speeches 
as  insolent  as  they  are  humiliating  to  me  ?) — you  dared  to  add, 
I  say,  that  you  would  at  last  make  me  hear  you ;  that  your  at- 
tentions would  one  day  be  not  displeasing  to  me ;  that ....  I 
dare  not  finish — I  dare  not  call  you  what  you  are !" 

This  display  of  feminine  vanity  in  so  important  an  affair 
gives  a  notion  of  Madame  Goezman's  strength  of  character. 
The  amusing  reply  of  Beaumarchais,  when  wishing  to  reassure 
the  alarmed  modesty  of  liis  fair  enemy,  is  known.  In  defend- 
ing himself  from  the  charge  of  having  made,  in  the  presence 
of  an  austere  registrar,  pen  in  hand,  observations  of  a  nature 
that  could  only  be  indicated  by  dots,  he  reminded  her  that  if, 
in  the  first  instance,  she  called  him  an  atrocious  man,  she  only 
considered  him  bien  malin  after  he  had  addressed  her  in  the 
following  terms :  "  I  call  upon  you,  Madame,  to  tell  us  instant- 
ly, without  reflection  and  without  preparation,  why  you  state 
in  all  your  interrogatories  that  you  are  thirty,  when  your 
countenance  contradicts  you,  and  shows  that  you  are  only 
eighteen."  The  judge,  Goezman,  the  accuser,  who  conducted 
the  whole  affair,  did  not  make  his  appearance  personally  until 
the  middle  of  the  suit ;  he  had  reckoned  upon  a  rapid  and  easy 
triumph ;  but  the  dispute  became  complicated  by  the  intro- 
duction of  facts  which  told  very  much  against  him.  Beau- 
marchais, driven  to  extremities  by  the  insinuation  of  poisoning, 
and  the  accusation  of  forgery,  which  the  magistrate  ventured 
to  make  in  his  wife's  Memorials,  took  reprisals,  and  examined 
in  his  turn  the  life  of  Goezman.  After  pro\nng  that,  in  the 
pending  lawsuit,  he  had  induced  the  bookseller  Lejay  to  make 
a  false  affidavit,  he  discovered  that  some  time  previously,  in 
order  to  conceal  certain  immoral  conduct,  Goezman  had  signed 
a  certificate  of  baptism  under  a  false  name,  and  denounced 
him,  in  his  turn,  before  the  Parliament  as  a  forger.     A  public 


GOEZMAN   SUSPENDED.  187 

cry  was  raised  against  him,  the  Maupeou  Parliament  was 
obliged  to  decree  the  personal  suspension  of  one  of  its  members, 
and  a  councilor  of  the  grand  chamber  was  seen  to  combine  the 
position  of  accuser  with  that  of  the  accused.  The  opening  of 
his  Memorial  gives  a  very  precise  idea  of  the  situation.  "A 
cry  has  been  raised,"  he  says,  "and  an  unfortunate  combina- 
tion of  circumstances,  together  with  the  malicious  pleasure  of 
inculpating  a  magistrate  at  the  present  juncture,  have  instant- 
ly caused  an  infinity  of  echoes.  The  belief  has  spread  like  a 
secret  contagion ;  a  storm  has  been  formed,  which  has  settled 
above  my  head,"  &c.  If  Goezman  continued  to  speak  in  this 
style,  he  might  inspire  some  interest ;  but,  soon  afterward,  he 
is  seen  getting  into  a  passion,  and  exhibits  equal  anger  and  bad 
faith  toward  a  man  who  had  only  defended  himself  from  his 
attacks.  At  this  period  of  the  suit,  the  councilor,  even  if  we 
adopt  the  utterly  improbable  supposition  that  he  had  hitherto 
been  deceived  by  his  wife,  could  no  longer  doubt  that  the  latter 
had  asked  for,  received,  and  kept  the  fifteen  louis.  He  must 
also  have  known  very  well  that  Beaumarchais  had  employed 
no  corrupt  artifice  for  transmitting  them  to  her,  other  than 
that  of  accepting  the  intervention  of  an  agent,  who  was  repre- 
senting her,  and  with  whom  she  alone  was  acquainted;  in 
spite  of  all  this,  he  persisted  more  than  ever  in  blackening  his 
adversary's  reputation,  and,  nevertheless,  as  he  felt  that  his 
accusation  (the  venality  of  his  wife  once  established)  gave  him 
an  odious  part  to  sustain,  he  concluded  with  false  protestations 
of  kindness,  which  his  whole  conduct  disproved,  and  which 
only  showed  that  he  was  conscious  of  being  compromised. 

The  other  three  adversaries  of  Beaumarchais  are  not  less 
useful  to  him  than  the  first ;  one  is  a  kind  of  speculative  bank- 
er named  Bertrand,  who  had,  first  of  all,  acted  on  his  behalf, 
and  had  treated  in  his  name  with  Madame  Goezman's  friend, 
the  bookseller.  Alarmed  at  the  accusation  made  by  the  coun- 
cilor, and  fearing  to  encounter  his  hatred,  Bertrand,  after  in 
the  first  instance  giving  the  true  particulars,  seemed  disposed 
to  take  what  appeared  the  stronger  side,  and  was  inclined  to 
attack  Beaumarchais  for  the  benefit  of  Madame  Goezman. 
The  first  of  Beaumarchais'  Memorials  took  him  up  mildly  and 
politely  enough.     Bertrand,  whose  fear  rendered  him  very  irri- 


188  BEAUMARCHAIS    AKO    HIS   IIMES. 

table  against  the  accused,  replied  in  an  insulting  paper,  which 
bore  this  epigraph  from  the  Psalms :  "  Judica  me,  Deus,  et  dis- 
cerne  causam  meam  de  gente  non  sanctd,  et  ah  homine  iniquo  et  do- 
loso  erue  vie"  Beaumarchais  could  only  take  his  revenge  on 
the  "  great  Bertrand"  by  inflicting  on  -him  the  celebrity  of  rid- 
icule. Here,  as  every  where,  the  shades  of  character  are  per- 
fectly rendered.  In  vain  does  Bertrand  attempt  to  deal  blows 
of  terrific  force ;  in  vain  does  he  compose  phrases  in  the  style 
of  the  following:  "A  cynical  rhetorician — a  buffoon,  an  un- 
blushing sophist,  a  deceptive  painter,  who  finds  in  his  own 
soul  the  filth  with  which  he  tarnishes  the  garment  of  inno- 
cence, malevolent  from  necessity  and  from  taste,  his  hard,  vin- 
dictive, implacable  heart — becomes  dizzy  from  its  passing  tri- 
umph, and  stifles  feeling  humanity  without  remorse."  Instead 
of  returning  rage  for  rage,  Beaumarchais  contented  himself 
with  giving  Bertrand's  portrait :  he  depicts  him  as  a  chatterer, 
greedy  of  gain,  vacillating,  at  once  timid  and  passionate,  but 
more  foolish  even  than  malicious — such,  in  a  word,  as  he  ex- 
hibits himself  in  the  four  grotesque  Memorials  with  which  he 
has  enriched  this  famous  lawsuit. 

The  fourth  champion  who  rushes  headlong  at  Beaumar-. 
chais,  and  is  transfixed  at  the  first  thrust,  is  a  romance  writer 
of  the  time,  who  was  rather  amusing  in  the  funereal  style,  and 
who  prided  himself  on  having,  to  use  his  own  words,  "  the  ro- 
tundity of  sentiment."*  This  was  D' Amaud-Baculard,  who, 
to  make  himself  agreeable  to  Goezman,  wrote  a  letter  contain- 
ing a  false  piece  of  information,  and  who,  after  being  very  po- 
litely corrected  in  the  first  Memorial  of  Beaumarchais,  replied 
as  follows :  "  Yes,  I  was  on  foot,  and  in  the  Rue  de  Conde  I 
met  M.  Caron  in  his  carriage — in  his  carriage  r  And  as  Beau- 
marchais had  said  that  D'Amaud  had  a  sombre  expression, 
D' Amaud  became  indignant,  and  exclaimed,  "  I  had  not  a  som- 
bre expression,  but  I  was  deeply  impressed :  a  sombre  expres- 
sion only  becomes  those  persons  who  are  ruminating  crime,  who 

are  laboring  to  stifle  remorse,  and  to  do  fresh  injury 

Such  persons  may  be  followed  step  by  step  in  their  counte- 
nances ;  they  are  marching  toward  the  eruption.  .  .   .  There 
are  hearts  in  which  I  shudder  to  read ;  I  measure  within  them 
*  Ld  Embonpoint  du  sentiment. 


BEAUMABCHAIS'    CARRIAGE.  .189 

all  the  sombre  depths  of  hell.  At  such  a  time  I  exclaim,  'Thou 
sleepest,  Jupiter !  Of  what  use,  then,  are  thy  thunderbolts'?'  " 
It  is  seen  that  if  D'Amaud,  in  his  turn,  does  no  harm,  it  is 
not  for  want  of  good  will.  It  will,  perhaps,  be  interesting  to 
reproduce  here  the  answer  of  Beaumarchais ;  it  will  be  seen 
with  what  justice  he  gives  every  one  what  he  deserves,  and 
what  a  charming  serenity  he  displays  in  the  contest.  He  com- 
mences by  reproducijig  D'Amaud's  phrase  in  reference  to  the 
carriage: 

" '  In  his  carriage,'  you  repeat,  with  a  large  note  of  admiration. 
Would  not  any  one  think,  after  the  sad  '  Yes,  I  was  on  foot,'  and 
the  large  note  of  admiration  which  runs  after  my  carriage,  that  you 
were  the  very  personification  of  envy  1  but  I,  who  know  you  to  be  a 
good  sort  of  man,  am  aware  that  your  phrase, '  in  his  carriage,'  does 
not  mean  that  you  were  sorry  to  see  me  in  my  carriage,  but  only  sor- 
ry that  I  did  not  see  you  in  yours. 

"  But  console  yourself,  sir ;  the  carriage  in  which  I  was  riding  had 
already  ceased  to  belong  to  me  when  you  saw  me  in  it.  The  Count 
de  la  Blache  had  had  it  seized  with  all  the  rest  of  my  property : 
men,  entitled  a  hautes  armes,  with  blue  coats,  cartouch  belts,  and 
muskets  of  menacing  aspect,  were  keeping  their  eyes  on  it  at  my 
house,  together  with  the  whole  of  my  furniture ;  and,  in  order  to 
cause  you,  in  spite  of  myself,  the  mortification  of  seeing  me  in  my 
carriage,  I  had  been  obliged,  the  same  day,  to  undergo  that  of  solic- 
iting from  the  kuissiers,  with  my  hat  in  one  hand  and  a  crown-piece 
in  the  other,  permission  to  make  use  of  it,  which,  if  you  wUl  allow  me 
to  say  so,  I  did  every  morning ;  and  while  I  am  now  speaking  to  you 
with  so  much  tranquillity,  the  same  distress  still  exists  in  my  house. 

"  How  unjust  people  are  !  They  envy  and  hate  a  man  whom  they 
think  happy,  and  who  would  frequently  give  something  to  be  in  the 
place  of  the  pedestrian  who  detests  him  on  account  of  his  carriage. 
Myself,  for  example — can  any  thing  be  more  calculated  than  my  pres- 
ent situation  to  throw  me  into  a  state  of  despair  ?  But  I  am  some- 
thing like  the  cousin  of  Heloise  :  I  may  weep  as  much  as  I  like,  a 
laugh  is  sure  to  escape  on  one  side  or  the  other.  That  is  what  ren- 
ders me  so  kind  toward  you.  My  philosophy  consists  in  being,  if 
possible,  satisfied  with  myself,  and  in  leaving  the  rest  to  go  on  as  it 
may  please  God." 

It  was  by  passages  such  as  the  above,  which  abound  in  the 
Memorials  against  Goezman,  that  Beaumarchais  managed  to 
destroy  the  prejudices  which  had  been  spread  against  him  in 
the  public  mind,  to  disann  the  envious,  convert  the  hostile, 


190  BEAUMAECHAIS  AND   HIS  TIMES. 

enlist  the  indifferent  on  his  behalf,  and  interest  every  one  in 
his  cause.  The  page  which  I  have  just  quoted  appears  to  me 
one  of  the  best  as  regards  its  naturalness,  iind  the  facility  and 
variety  of  the  nuances — above  all  if  we  add  to  it  the  following 
lines,  which  complete  his  answer  to  D'Amaud,  and,  after  the 
honey,  give  us  the  sting :  "  Forgive  me,  sir,  if  I  have  not  an- 
swered, in  a  letter  addressed  to  yourself  alone,  all  the  insults 
in  your  Memorial ;  forgive  me  if,  after  you  have  measured  in 
my  heart  the  sombre  depths  of  hell,  and  cried  out, '  Thou  skep- 
est,  Jujnter ;  of  what  use,  then,  are  thy  thunderbolts  f  I  have  re- 
plied but  lightly  to  so  much  inflation  ;  forgive  me ;  you  have 
been  a  schoolboy,  no  doubt,  and  you  know  that  the  best-filled 
balloon  only  requires  the  prick  of  a  pin." 

Of  all  Beaumarchais'  adversaries,  the  one  he  has  treated 
worst  in  his  Memorials,  the  one  against  whom  his  pen  is  more 
often  carried  away  to  excess,  is  the  journalist  Marin ;  but  it 
must  also  be  said  that,  of  all  his  enemies,  this  one,  if  not  the 
most  violent  in  words,  was  at  least  the  most  underhand,  the 
most  perfidiously  venomous  in  his  insinuations,  and  conse- 
quently the  most  irritating.  When  we  read  Marin's  papers, 
we  understand  and  excuse  the  fierceness  of  Beaumarchais,  He 
was  one  of  those  litterateurs  without  talent,  who,  unable  to  be- 
come some  one,  endeavor  obstinately  to  become  some  thing,  and 
occasionally  succeed  by  making  a  great  stir  in  gaining  a  sort 
of  position  ;  but  as  their  reputation  is  based  upon  nothing,  has 
no  foundation,  either  literary  or  moral,  it  totters  and  crumbles 
to  pieces  at  the  first  shock.  In  the  first  instance  a  school- 
master, Marin  had  afterward  obtained  the  lucrative  privilege 
of  publishing  the  "  Gazette  de  France,"  in  which  he  brought 
those  paragraphs  to  perfection  to  which  the  name  of  an  in- 
mate of  the  poultry-yard  is  at  present  applied,  and  which  were 
then  called  marinades.  He  was,  moreover,  the  censor,  the  head 
of  the  office  of  printed  books,  and  the  agent  of  the  Chancellor 
Maupeou  for  the  composition  and  distribution  of  pamphlets  in- 
tended to  support  the  new  Parliaments.  It  was  asserted  that, 
as  he  liked  to  have  several  strings  to  his  "bow,  he  also  circulated 
secretly  the  pamphlets  of  Maupeou's  adversaries,  which  were 
very  much  in  request  and  very  much  prohibited.  He  also 
passed,  with  or  without  reason,  for  a  usurer,  and  foi-  the  di- 


MARIN   AND   BEAUMAKCHAIS.  191 

rector  of  news-offices  at  which  defamation  was  sold  on  the 
most  reasonable  terms.  In  a  word,  he  was  one  of  those  publi- 
cists whose  race  has  not,  perhaps,  entirely  disappeared. 

In  his  first  Memorial  Beaumarchais  had  contented  himself 
with  warding  off  the  blow  aimed  by  Marin.  He  did  not  in- 
troduce any  thing  personal  or  insulting  into  his  statement  of 
&cts.  Marin,  convinced,  like  Bertrand  and  D' Arnaud,  that  the 
accused  was  lost,  and  that  the  best  means  of  imposing  silence 
upon  him  was  by  frightening  him,  replied  in  one  of  the  most 
insulting  Memorials.  While  Bertrand  the  speculator  boiTow- 
ed  his  epigraph  from  the  Psalms,  Marin  the  journalist,  who 
had  written  a  history  of  Saladin,  and  doubtless  prided  himself 
on  being  an  Orientalist,  displayed  at  the  top  of  his  paper  a  Per- 
sian maxim  from  the  poet  Sadi :  "  Give  not  thy  rice  to  the 
serpent,  for  the  serpent  will  sting  thee."  Beaumarchais  is  the 
serpent ;  but  Beaumarchais  will  soon  prove,  in  his  own  way, 
that  it  is  Marin  "  whoj  instead  of  giving  his  rice  to  the  ser- 
pent, takes  its  skin,  envelops  himself  in  it,  and  crawls  with  as 
much  ease  as  if  he  had  never  done  any  thing  else  in  his  life." 
To  sign  his  first  Memorial,  conjointly  with  himself,  as  the  law 
demanded,  Beaumarchais  had  only  been  able  to  find  a  poor, 
obscure  advocate  named  Malbete.  Marin,  who  aims  at  wit, 
takes  advantage  of  the  circumstance,  and  opens  with  the  fol- 
lowing sentence:  "A  libel  has  been  distributed  at  the  gates 
of  Paris,  and  sold  publicly,  bearing  the  signature,  Beaumar- 
chaJs-Malbete."  This  was  neat  enough,  but  it  was  imprudent ; 
for  the  journalist,  in  making  this  point,  was  venturing  upon  a 
kind  of  war  in  which  his  adversary  was  an  acknowledged  mas- 
ter. Accordingly,  a  reply  in  the  same  tone,  but  with  more 
smartness,  was  not  long  coming.  "  The  Gazetier  de  France 
complains  of  the  falseness  of  the  calumnies  circulated  in  a  pa- 
per which,  he  says,  is  signed  Beaumarchais-Malbete,  and  he 
undertakes  to  justify  himself  by  a  little  manifesto  signed  Ma- 
rin, qui  n' est  pas  Malbete" 

Every  one  has  read  the  fine  opening  of  the  fourth  Memorial, 
the  most  remarkable  of  all.  We  will  only  quote  the  para- 
graphs in  which  he  asks  Providence  to  give  him  Marin  for  his 
enemy.  "  I  should  desire,"  he  says,  "  the  intellect  of  this  man 
to  be  heavy  and  dull ;  I  should  desii'e  his  stupid  malice  to  have 


192  BEAUMAKCHAIS   AND   lUS   TIMES. 

long  procured  for  him  two  things,  which,  until  his  time,  had 
been  considered  incompatible :  public  hatred  and  public  con- 
tempt. I  would  ask,  above  all,  that,  unfaithful  to  his  acquaint- 
ances, ungrateful  to  his  friendSj  odious  to  authors  in  his  censor- 
ship, nauseating  to  readers  in  his  writings,  terrible  to  bori'ow- 
ers  in  his  usury,  hawking  about  forbidden  books,  acting  as  a 
spy  on  persons  who  receive  him  into  their  society,  plundei-ing 
strangers  who  intrust  their  affairs  to  him,  tyrannizing  over  un- 
fortunate booksellers  in  order  to  enrich  himself,  he  should  be 
such  a  man  that,  in  public  opinion,  it  would  be  sufficient  to  be 
accused  by  him  in  order  to  be  presumed  honest,  to  be  support- 
ed by  him  in  order  to  be  at  once  suspected  :  give  me  Marin." 


CHAPTER  Xm. 


Composition  of  the  Memorials. — Voltaire  and  the  Memorials. — The 
Goezman  Case  abroad. — An  anonymous  Letter. — Councilor  Gin. — 
Madame  du  Deffand  to  Horace  Walpole. — The  Sentence. 

With  the  exception  of  Gudin,  the  persons  who  came  to  the 
aid  of  Beaumarchais  in  his  contest  with  Goezman  were  not 
literary  men  by  profession ;  he  was  assisted  by  his  relations 
and  his  most  intimate  friends.  First  of  all  we  have  old  M. 
Caron,  who,  though  now  seventy-five,  still  gives  his  advice 
with  regard  to  his  son's  Memoirs ;  then  Julie,  whose  literary 
talents  are  at  present  known,  makes  her  appearance  in  her 
brother's  pleadings ;  M.  de  JVIiron,  Beaumarchais'  brother-in- 
law,  a  man  of  wit,  of  whom  we  have  spoken  elsewhere,  fur- 
nishes notes  for  the  satirical  portion.  Gudin,  who  was  very 
strong  upon  ancient  history,  helps  him  to  compose  some  of  the 
bits  of  erudition  ;  and  his  heavy,  pale  prose  becomes  pliant  and 
colored  under  his  friend's  pen.  A  very  distinguished  young 
barrister,  named  Falconnet,  supervises  the  author's  work  when 
he  is  dealing  with  questions  of  law.  Finally,  a  Provencal 
physician  named  Gardanne  directs  specially  the  dissection  of  the 
two  Provengaux,  his  compatriots,  Marin  and  Bertrand. 

Such  is  the  httle  phalanx  which  Madame  Goezman,  in  her 
Memorials,  calls  an  "  infamous  clique,"  and  which  the  "  great 


VOLTAIKE    AND    THE    MEMORIALS.  193 

Bertrand,"  less  ferocious  and  more  sensible,  calls  simply  the 
"joyful  band."  These  witty  bourgeois  are  all,  indeed,  joyful 
enough,  grouped  around  Beaumarchais,  combating  with  him 
against  a  host  of  enemies,  and  not  without  incurring  some  per- 
sonal dangers,  for  Julie,  in  particular,  was  formally  denounced 
by  Goezman.  A  printed  representation  from  this  judge,  di- 
rected specially  against  her,  is  in  existence,  but  it  led  to  noth- 
ing ;  all  of  them,  for  the  rest,  had  undergone  interrogations, 
confrontations,  and  re-examinations ;  they  were  none  the 
worse  for  it,  and  their  gayety  kept  up  the  ardor  of  the  man  to 
whom  they  were  devoted  body  and  soul.  The  head-quarters 
were  not  at  Beaumarchais'.  Since  the  loss  of  the  La  Blache 
suit  he  had  broken  up  his  establishment ;  he  had  placed  his 
sister  Julie  as  a  free-boarder  at  the  abbey  of  Saint- Antoine ; 
his  father  was  living  with  an  old  lady,  a  friend  of  theirs ;  two 
other  sisters  were  in  a  convent  in  Picardy.  Although  his 
affairs  were  very  much  out  of  order,  he  continued,  neverthe- 
less, to  pension  all  his  family.  As  for  himself,  what  with  the 
bailiffs  of  the  Count  de  la  Blache  and  Goezman's  prosecution, 
he  lived  in  a  flying  camp.  Always  striving,  always  hurrying 
from  one  point  to  another,  he  used  to  concert  and  prepare  with 
his  friends  his  means  of  defense  and  attack  in  the  house  of 
one  of  his  sisters,  who  had  married  Lepine,  the  celebrated 
watchmaker,  and  who  lived  just  in  the  neighborhood  of  the 
Palais  de  Justice.  There  all  the  particulars  were  collected, 
all  the  notes  made,  and  the  materials  for  each  Memorial  dis- 
cussed. 

It  now  only  remains  for  us  to 'endeavor  to  represent  the 
attitude  of  the  public  in  this  struggle  between  a  private  indi- 
vidual and  a  detested  Parliament,  which  they  identified  with 
Goezman.  In  reckoning  on  the  assistance  he  might  derive 
from  circumstances,  the  intrepid  suitor  had  not  been  wrong. 
After  the  appearance  of  the  second  Memorial,  his  cause  had 
become,  as  was  said  at  the  time,  the  cause  of  the  nation,  and 
he  found  himself  the  object  of  a  perpetually  increasing  sympa- 
thy. This  was  kept  up  by  the  very  duration  of  the  contest, . 
the  result  of  which  was  retarded  by  a  variety  of  incidents,  and 
delayed  for  seven  months,  from  August,  1773,  till  February, 
1774.     During  these  seven  months,  in  tlie  absence  of  more 

I 


194  BEAUMARCHAIS   AND   HIS   TIMES. 

important  events,  the  eyes  of  all  Paris,  France,  we  may  even 
say  Europe,  were  fixed  upon  Beaumarchais  and  bis  lawsuit. 

It  is  known  with  what  ardent  curiosity  and  interest  Voltaire 
followed  this  affair  from  his  retreat  at  Ferney.  Although  he 
had  at  first  sided  w^ith  the  Chancellor  Maupeou,  he  now  de- 
serted the  ministerial  flag,  and  underwent  the  influence  of 
Beaumarchais'  Memorials. 

"  What  a  man !"  he  writes  to  D'Alembert ;  "  he  unites 
every  thing — ^humor,  seriousness,  argument,  gayety,  force, 
pathos,  every  kind  of  eloquence,  and  he  seeks  for  none,  and 
he  confounds  all  his  adversaries,  and  he  gives  lessons  to  his 
judges.  His  naivete  enchants  me.  I  forgive  him  his  impru- 
dence and  his  petulance." 

"  I  am  afraid,"  he  says  elsewhere,  "  that  this  brilliant,  hare- 
brained fellow  is  at  bottom  right  in  spite  of  every  one.  What 
roguery,  oh  heaven !  What  horrors !  "What  degradation  in 
the  country!  What  a  shock  for  the  Parliament!"*  The 
phlegmatic  Horace  Walpole,  although  less  affected  than  Vol- 
taire, also  yields  to  the  influence  of  the  Memorials.  '■'  I  have 
received,"  he  writes  to  Madame  du  Deffand,  "Beaumarchais' 
'Memorials;'  I  am  at  the  third  volume,  and  they  amuse  me 
very  much.  The  man  is  very  skillful ;  he  reasons  coiTCctly, 
and  has  a  great  deal  of  wit;  his  pleasantry  is  sometimes  very 
good ;  but  he  delights  in  it  too  much.  In  fine,  I  can  under- 
stand, considering  the  party  spirit  at  present  among  you,  this 
affair  causing  a  great  sensation.  I  was  forgetting  to  tell  you 
with  what  horror  your  mode  of  administering  justice  struck 
me.  Is  there  a  country  in  the  world  in  which  this  Madame 
Goezman  would  not  have  been  severely  punished  ?  Her  dep- 
osition is  shameless  to  a  fearful  extent.  Are  persons  allowed, 
then,  with  you  to  lie,  to  prevaricate,  to  contradict  themselves, 
to  abuse  their  opponents  in  so  desperate  a  manner?     What 

*  Fide  Voltaire's  correspondence  from  Dec,  1773,  to  April,  1774,  in 
which  he  speaks  incessantly  of  Beaumarchais.  If  La  Harpe  is  to  be 
believed,  he  even  thought  of  him  so  much  as  to  experience  some  jeal- 
*ousy,  for  he  is  said  to  have  written  as  follows  in  reference  to  the  Me- 
morials: "They  exhibit  much  ^^-it;  I  think,  however,  that  more  is  re- 
quired to  write  'Zaire  and  Me'rope.'"  This  sentence,  quoted  by  La 
Harpe,  is  not  found  in  the  published  correspondence. 


THE  GOEZMAN  CASE  ABROAD.  195 

lias  become  of  this  creature  and  her  villainous  husband  ?     An- 
swer me,  I  beseech  you  !"* 

In  Germany  the  eflfect  was  not  less  than  in  England.  Gothe 
has  related  to  us,  himself,  how  at  Frankfort,  in  a  circle  where 
Beaumarchais'  Memorials  were  being  read  aloud,  a  young  girl 
gave  him  the  idea  of  transforming  the  Clavijo  episode  into  a 
drama.f  At  Paris,  the  impression  they  produced  was  natu- 
rally stronger ;  Goezman's  adversary  had  for  him  not  only  all 
the  young  men  and  women,  but  all  the  former  advocates  of 
the  ancient  Parliament,  and  aU  their  connections.  Even  more, 
for  such  was  the  levity  of  mind  in  official  regions,  that  Louis 
XV.  himself  found  amusement  in  the  work ;  it  made  Madame 
du  Barry  laugh,  and  she  had  ''  proverbs"  played  at  her  house, 
in  which  the  confrontation  of  ]VIadame  Goezman  with  Beau- 
marchais was  represented  on  the  stage.  Maupeou  alone  did 
not  laugh  when  he  thought  of  the  consequences  of  this  suc- 
cess, disastrous  as  it  was  to  a  scheme  which  had  cost  him  so 
many  efforts,  and  had  exposed  him  to  so  much  animosity. 
The  enthusiasm  which  this  judicial  comedy  then  excited  is 
expressed  in  a  lively  manner  in  the  two  foUomng  letters,  which 
were  addressed  to  Beaumarchais  by  the  wife  of  one  of  the 
Presidents  of  the  old  Parliament,  Madame  de  Meinieres  ;t 
they  contain,  moreover,  a  witty  analysis  of  the  fourth  Memo- 
rial, which  determines  me  to  give  them  almost  entire : 

"  I  have  finished  this  astonishing  Memorial,  sir.  Yesterday  I 
cursed  the  visits  which  interrupted  me  in  such  delightful  reading,  al- 
though, when  the  persons  had  gone,  I  thanked  them  for  having  pro- 
longed my  pleasure  by  interrupting  it.  Blessed,  on  the  contrary,  for- 
ever be  the  ^  grand  cousm,''  the '  sacristan,'  the '  publicist,'  and  all  the 
worthies  who  have  called  forth  the  narrative  of  your  journey  to  Spain. 
You  ought  to  reward  these  persons.  Your  best  friends  could  not 
have  put  you  in  so  good  a  light  by  their  eulogiums  and  their  affec- 
tion, as  your  enemies  have  done  by  forcing  you  to  speak  of  yourself. 
Grandison,  the  most  perfect  hero  of  a  romance,  does  not  reach  up  to 
your  ankle.  When  we  follow  you  to  this  M.  Clavijo's,  to  M.  Whall's, 
in  the  park  of  Aranjuez,  to  the  embassador's,  to  the  king's,  we  be- 

*  Vide  Madame  du  Deffand's  letters  to  Horace  Walpole,  vol.  iii.,  p. 
90,  edition  of  1812.  t  Vide  Giithe's  Autobiography. 

X  Madame  dc  Meinieres  had  a  certain  literary  reputation.  She  had 
translated  Hume's  "  History  of  England." 


196  BEAUMARCHAIS   AND    HIS   TUIES. 

come  as  anxious,  as  excited,  and  as  indignant  as  yourself.  What  a 
magic  pencil  is  yours,  sir !  what  energy  of  thought  and  expression  ! 
what  rapidity  of  wit !  what  an  incredible  compound  of  warmth  and 
prudence,  courage  and  sensibility,  genius  and  grace !  I  had  the  honor 
to  see  Mademoiselle  d'Ossun*  yesterday,  and  we  spoke  of  you  and 
your  Memorial ;  what  else  can  be  spoken  of?  She  told  me  that  you 
had  called  upon  her.  If  you  want  to  see  her,  she  comes  pretty  reg- 
ularly every  Sunday  to  the  Pavilions,f  and  I  offer  to  bring  you  to- 
gether there.  She  is  a  girl  of  the  greatest  merit,  whose  head  and 
heart  are  excellent ;  but  apropos  of  heart  and  head,  what  were  you 
doing  with  them  at  Madame  de  Saint  Jean's  ?  You  appeared  to  be 
displaying  all  the  qualities  of  an  agreeable  man,  which  is  not  the  way 
to  be  most  attractive  to  an  old  woman  like  me.  I  saw,  well  enough, 
that  you  possessed  wit,  talent,  confidence,  and  the  art  of  pleasing  in 
conversation,  but  I  should  never  have  perceived  in  you,  sir,  a  true 
father  of  a  family,  and  the  sublime  author  of  your  four  Memorials.  J 
I  must  be  very  stupid,  and  the  points  which  compose  the  brilliancy 
of  a  circle  like  that  of  this  charming  woman  must  dazzle  and  fatigue 
a  savage  of  my  kind  so  as  to  prevent  her  distinguishing  them. 

"  Receive  my  thanks  for  the  enthusiasm  which  you  excite  in  your 
readers,  and  the  assurance  of  the  genuine  esteem  with  which  I  have 
the  honor  to  be,  sir,  &c.,  Guichard  de  Meinieres. 

"ISth  February,  1774" 

"  Whatever  be  the  result  of  your  quarrel  with  so  many  adversa- 
ries, I  congratulate  you,  sir,  on  having  had  it ;  it  will,  in  any  case, 
prove  that  you  are  one  of  the  most  honorable  men  in  the  world,  since 
after  searching  through  your  life  it  has  been  impossible  to  show  that 
you  are  a  villain,  and  assuredly  you  have  made  yourself  known  as  a 
most  eloquent  man  in  every  kind  of  eloquence  belonging  to  this  cen- 
tury. Your  prayer  to  the  Supreme  Being  is  a  masterpiece  of  the 
sublime  and  the  comic,  the  astounding,  ingenious,  novel  intermixture 
of  which  produces  the  greatest  effect.  I  confess,  with  Madame  Goez- 
man,  that  you  are  somewhat  malin ;  and,  following  her  example,  I 
forgive  you,  for  you  malices  are  delightful.  I  hope,  sir,  you  have 
not  a  sufficiently  bad  opinion  of  me  to  pity  me  for  reading  a  hundred 
and  eight  pages  when  they  are  written  by  you.  I  begin  by  devour- 
ing them,  then  I  retrace  my  steps ;  I  stop  now  at  a  passage  worthy 

*  The  sister  of  the  Marquis  d'Ossun,  the  French  embassador  in  Spain, 
who  had  been  very  oblic^ing  to  Beaumarchais  during  his  stay  at  Madrid. 

t  The  Pavilions  of  Chaillot. 

X  This  sentence  shows  what  a  feeling  of  surprise  the  Memorials  pro- 
duced on  those  who  had  hitherto  only  known  Beaumarchais  as  a  very 
gay  and  somewhat  foppish  man  of  the  world ;  "  ayant"  (to  employ  the 
delicate  and  polite  expression  of  Madame  de  Meinieres)  "  de  la  con^nce." 


AN   ANONYMOUS    LETTER,  197 

of  Demosthenes,  now  at  another  superior  to  Cicero,  and  at  last  at  a 
thousand  as  humorous  as  Moliere ;  I  am  so  afraid  of  finishing  and 
heincr  unable  to  read  any  thing  else  afterward,  that  I  recommence 
each  paragraph  to  give  you  time  enough  to  produce  your  fifth  Memo- 
rial, in  which  we  shall  no  doubt  find  your  confrontation  with  M. 
Goezman ;  I  must  only  beg  of  you  to  do  me  the  favor  to  give  me 
notice  the  night  before  the  bookseller  sends  copies  to  the  widow  La 
Marche ;  she  is  the  person  who  has  always  supplied  them  to  me.  I 
take  several  of  them  at  a  time,  for  ourselves  and  for  our  friends  ;* 
and  I  am  enraged  when,  from  not  knowing  they  have  appeared,  I 
send  too  late,  and  am  told  in  reply  that  I  must  wait  until  the  follow- 
ing day." 

There  was  a  grand  rivalry  as  to  who  should  send  Beaumar- 
chais  information,  advice,  congratulations,  and  encouragement. 
Many  persons  even  carried  then*  good  intentions  so  far  as  to 
send  him,  in  their  modesty,  Memorials  ready  written,  as  if  his 
wit  could  not  do  without  their  assistance.  One  of  these  cor- 
respondents, who  did  not  sign  his  name,  but  who  appears  to 
have  been  a  member  of  the  old  Parliament,  sent  him  the  plan 
of  a  Memorial,  impressed  upon  him  the  necessity  of  secrecy, 
and  terminated  as  follows :  "  The  machine  is  coming  to  pieces, 
thanks  to  you.  Is  not  this  the  time  for  striking  the  grand 
blow  ?  I  refer  it  all  to  your  prudence.  From  your  writings, 
I  think  you  as  honest  a  man  as  myself,  which  I  would  not  say 
of  every  one;  I  fear  nothing."  And  the  letter  is  without  a 
signature !  What  a  Bayard  is  this  correspondent !  The  world 
is  full  of  these  heroic  persons  who  exhort  others  to  deeds  of 
daring  from  beneath  the  veil  of  the  anonymous. 

Beaumarchais  was  not  wanting  in  audacity,  but  he  did  not 
wish  to  drive  the  Parliament  to  extremities ;  he  knew  that 
public  favor  was  fleeting  and  inconstant.  The  Prince  de  Con- 
ti,  his  warmest  protector,  had  said  to  him,  "  If  you  have  the 
misfortune  to  come  under  the  hands  of  the  executioner,  I  shall 
be  obliged  to  abandon  you."  What  he  had  to  do,  then,  was 
to  preserve  and  maintain  the  power  he  derived  from  the  oppo- 
sition, without  exasperating  his  judges,  who  were  already  in  a 
state  of  irritation ;  always  to  suit  his  tone  to  the  rank  of  the 
persons  he  attacked ;  and  to  be  able  when  necessary,  as  has 
been  wittily  said,  to  strike  while  kneeling.  This  is  exactly 
*  Our  friends  were  the  members  of  the  old  Parliament. 


198  BEATIMAKCHAIS   AKD   HIS   TIMES. 

what  he  did,  and  with  marvelous  tact,  after  an  incident  which 
increased  still  more  the  interest  he  had  already  inspired.  A 
colonel  of  cavalry,  whom  Maupeou  had  transformed  ex  ahrupto 
into  a  magistrate,  the  President  de  Nicolai,  an  intimate  friend 
of  Goezman's,  met  Beaumarchais  in  the  Salle  des  Pas  Perdus, 
and  insulted  him  by  ordering  the  officers  to  turn  him  out. 
Beaumarchais  accordingly  made  a  complaint  against  the  in- 
sulter.  The  first  president  sent  for  him,  and  invited  him  to 
withdraw  his  complaint.  He  consented  to  do  so ;  but  in  his 
last  Memorial,  with  external  signs  of  respect,  beneath  which 
disdain  can  be  seen,  he  explains  publicly,  why  he  consented  to 
foi^ve  M.  de  Nicolai.  In  a  short  time  his  influence  became 
such  that  his  suitor,  who  had  been  treated  with  so  much  con- 
tempt by  his  judges  at  the  commencement  of  the  action,  and 
who  had  not  been  suiFered  to  make  his  accusations  in  the  or- 
dinary legal  forms,  had  only  to  point  out  in  his  Memorials  those 
whom  he  considered  his  most  violent  enemies,  in  order  to  make 
them  yield  to  his  challenge.  One  of  them,  a  councilor  of  the 
grand  chamber,  named  Gin,  addressed  to  him  a  sort  of  apol- 
ogy, six  pages  in  length,  from  which  I  extract  some  passages, 
which  show  how  the  px'ide  of  the  judge  disappeared  before  the 
popularity  of  the  accused. 

"  I  have  read  your  last  Memorial,  sir,"  writes  Councilor  Gin ; 
"  I  yield  to  your  prayers  by  ceasing  to  be  your  judge  ;  but,  in  order 
to  avoid  all  misunderstanding  as  to  the  motives,  which  have  hitherto 
prevented  me  from  taking  this  determination,  and  those  which  lead 
me  to  do  so  at  present,  I  think  I  ought  to  inform  you  and  the  public 
of  these  motives." 

And,  after  a  long  explanation  of  his  conduct,  this  magis- 
trate, who  was  at  first  Beaumarchais'  declared  enemy,  term- 
inates as  follows : 

"  I  think  I  have  proved,  sir,  that  I  have  even  now  all  the  impar- 
tiality necessary  for  judging  M.  and  Madame  de  Goezman  and  your- 
self; but  your  attacks  have  been  so  multiplied,  that,  if  1  were  to  ap- 
pear as  your  judge,  I  should  have  reason  to  fear  the  public  might  sus- 
pect me  of  some  unfavorable  opinion  toward  you.  To  this  delicacy 
I  sacrifice  my  individual  sentiments ;  and,  in  order  to  give  you  a 
fresh  proof  of  my  impartiality,  I  declare  to  you,  sir,  that  I  require  no 
other  reparation  for  the  imputations  contained  in  your  Memorials  than 
that  oi giving  publicity  to  this  letter,  which  I  forward,  at  the  same 


COUNCILOR   GIN.  199 

time,  to  the  first  president     I  am,  sir,  with  all  the  sentiments  due  to 
you,  your  very  humble,  &c.,  Gin.* 

"Feb.  15,  ITT-t." 

What  a  singular  substitution  of  parts!  The  judge  pleads 
befcwe  the  accused,  and  the  accused  is  about  to  teach  dignity 
to  the  judge,  by  writing  on  his  side  to  the  first  president  a  let- 
ter, from  which  I  borrow  only  the  following  lines : 

"  Monseigneur, — I  have  the  honor  to  address  to  you  a  copy  of  the 
apologetic  letter  I  have  received  from  M.  Gin.  My  profound  re- 
spect for  the  court  prevents  me  giving  this  letter  the  publicity  which 
this  magistrate  seems  at  first  to  have  desired  it  should  receive,  con- 
Tinced  as  I  am  that  vrhen  he  reflects  upon  it  again,  he  will  be  obliged 
to  me  for  renouncing  all  idea  of  printing  it  with  my  commentary." 

What,  indeed,  can  be  more  strange  than  this  step  of  a  magis- 
trate, who  himself  solicits  an  accused  person,  whose  Memo- 
rials constitute  an  infraction  of  the  law,  and  were  soon  after- 
ward condemned  to  be  burned,  to  grant  him  a  place  in. these 
Memorials  to  justify  himself  with  the  public !  Who  does  not 
recognize  in  this  a  brilliant  testimony  to  the  power  which 
Beaumarchais  derived  from  public  opinion,  which  he  had  con- 
trived to  gain,  and  which  he  opposed  like  a  buckler  to  his  en- 
emies. 

However,  if  fear  acted  on  some  of  the  magistrates  of  the 
Maupeou  Parliament,  hatred  and  fear  ruled  alternately  in  the 
hearts  of  the  majority,  who  saw  with  delight  the  hour  of  venge- 
ance approaching.  The  day  for  giving  judgment  arrived  at 
last,  on  the  26th  February,  1774,  amid  universal  expectation. 

*  This  is  the  same  magistrate  who  admits  to  Beatimarchais  the  in- 
fluence exercised  by  the  public  rumors  on  his  decision  in  the  La  Blacbe 
suit,  out  of  wliich  the  Goezman  suit  sprang.  The  admission  is  worth 
preserving.  *'  Whether  from  reason,"  he  writes,  "  or  from  the  impressions 
which  the  public  rutnors,  even  though  calumnious,  have  left  on  people! s  minds, 
and  from  which  it  is  impossible  to  keep  free,  I  will  not  conceal  from  you 
that  the  combination  of  peculiarities  connected  with  your  deed,  your  let- 
ters, and  your  whole  affair  determined  me  to  '  support'  the  letters  of  re- 
scision."  Councilor  Gin  means  by  this  that  he  had  expressed  his  opin- 
ion thjit  the  statement  of  accounts  between  Paris  du  Vemey  and  Beau- 
marchais should  be  declared  null.  Tlijs  opinion,  without  being  sub- 
stantially more  advantageous  for  him,  was  less  offensive  in  form  than 
that  of  Goezman,  which  had  been  adopted  by  the  Parliament,  and  in 
virtue  of  which  the  act  in  question  had  been  declared,  indirectly,  to  be 
a,  forgery. 


200  BEAUMARCHAIS    AND    HIS   TTMES. 

"We  are  expecting  to-day,"  writes  Madame  du  Deffand  to 

Walpole,  "a  great  event:  Beaumarchais'  judgment 

M.  de  Monaco  has  inA^ted  him  this  evening  to  read  us  a  com- 
edy of  his  composition,  entitled  '  The  Barber  of  Seville.'  .... 
The  public  are  infatuated  with  the  author,  who  is  receiving 
judgment  while  I  am  writing.  It  is  expected  that  the  judg- 
ment wiU  be  severe,  and  it  may  happen  that,  instead  of  sup- 
ping with  us,  he  may  be  condemned  to  exile,  or  even  to  the 
pillory.     I  will  teU  you  to-morrow." 

Such  is  the  amount  of  interest  Madame  du  Deffand  took  ia 
people !  What  a  pity  for  her  if  the  accused  had  been  con- 
demned to  the  pillory !  She  would  have  lost  the  reading  of 
"  The  Barber."  She  did  lose  it,  all  the  same ;  the  judges  de- 
liberated for  so  long  a  time  (for  twelve  hours)  that  Beaumai*- 
chais  addressed  to  the  Prince  of  Monaco  the  following  unpub- 
lished letter,  which  forms  a  pendant  to  that  of  Madame  du 
Deffand : 

"  Beaumarchais,  infinitely  sensible  of  the  honor  which  the  Prince 
de  Monaco  has  been  kind  enough  to  do  him,^  sends  this  acknowledg- 
ment from  the  court,  where  he  has  been  kept  since  six  in  the  morn- 
ing, where  he  has  been  questioned  at  the  bar,  where  he  is  waiting  for 
his  judgment,  for  which  he  has  had  to  wait  a  long  time ;  but,  what- 
ever turn  affairs  may  take,  Beaumarchais,  who  is  surrounded  by  his 
relations  at  the  present  moment,  can  not  escape  from  them,  whether 
he  has  compliments  of  congratulation  or  of  condolence  to  receive. 
He  begs  the  Prince  de  Monaco  to  do  him  the  favor  of  reserving  his 
kindness  for  another  day.  He  has  the  honor  to  assure  him  of  his 
very  respectful  gratitude. 

"  Saturday,  February  26,  17T4." 

When  he  wrote  this  letter,  Beaumarchais,  after  entering  the 
court,  where  he  had  seen  all  his  judges  pass  before  him,  had 
been  just  submitted,  according  to  custom,  to  his  last  interrog- 
atory; the  preceding  night  had  been  devoted  by  him  to  the 
settlement  of  his  affairs.  It  appears  that  he  had  decided  upon 
killing  himself  in  case  of  being  condemned  to  the  pillory.* 
Seeing  that  there  was  no  end  to  the  deliberation,  he  Tvithdrew 
to  the  residence  of  Madame  Lepine,  his  sister,  went  to  bed,  and 
enjoyed  a  profound  sleep. 

*  So,  at  least,  it  appears  from  a  passage  in  one  of  his  Memorials,  in 
his  appeal  from  the  judgment  in  the  La  Blache  case. 


THE    SENTENCE.  201 

"  He  slept,"  says  Gudin,  in  his  manuscript,  "  and  his  judges  kept 
awake,  tormented  by  their  anger  and  divided  among  themselves. 
They  deliberated  with  tumult ;  expressed  their  opinions  with  rage ; 
wished  to  punish  the  author  of  the  Memorials ;  foresaw  the  clamor 
of  the  public,  who  were  ready  to  disavow  them,  and  filled  the  place 
with  their  cries  of  contention." 

They  at  last  determined  upon  a  sentence  by  which  they 
hoped  to  satisfy  the  public  and  at  the  same  time  avenge  them- 
selves. They  condemned  Madame  Goezman  to  the  penalty  of 
blanie,  and  ordered  her  to  restore  the  fifteen  louis,  which  were 
to  be  distributed  to  the  poor.  Her  husband  was  placed  "  out 
of  court" — a  sentence  which  was  equivalent  to  the  other  in 
the  case  of  a  magistrate,  and  which  forced  him  to  resign  his 
office.*  Beaumarchais  was  also  condemned  to  the  penalty  of 
"  blame." 

This  penalty  was  one  of  infamy,  and  answered  as  nearly  as 
possible  to  what  is  now  called  "  civic  degradation."  It  ren- 
dered the  condemned  incapable  of  occupying  any  public  func- 
tion, and  he  had  to  receive  his  sentence  on  his  knees  before  the 
court,  the  president  saying  to  him,  ''The  court  blames  thee, 
and  declares  thee  infamous."  Beaumarchais  was  awaked  to 
hear  the  result : 

"  He  rose  tranquilly,"  says  Gudin, "  equally  the  master  of  his  move- 
ments and  his  intellect.  '  Let  us  see,'  he  said, '  what  there  remains 
to  be  done.'  We  went  out  together  to  his  sisters ;  I  did  not  know 
whether  they  were  not  waiting  about  the  house  to  arrest  him.  I  was 
ignorant  of  his  designs,  and  did  not  wish  to  leave  him.  After  hav- 
ing gone  some  distance,  in  order  to  be  certain  that  he  was  not  being 
followed,  he  took  leave  of  me,  and  made  an  appointment  with  me  for 
the  next  day  in  the  asylum  he  had  chosen ;  for  it  was  to  be  feared 

*  This  action,  so  imprudently  commenced,  and  so  violently  followed 
np  by  Goezman,  brought  misfortune  to  him.  He  lost  his  place  and  his 
reputation.  After  being  sacrificed  by  his  colleagues,  he  retired  into  ob- 
scurity ;  and,  twenty  years  afterward,  I  find  his  name  en  the  list  of  per- 
sons decapitated  on  the  7th  Thermidor,  two  days  before  the  fall  of 
Robespierre.  This  is  plainly  the  man.  Louis- Valentin  Goezman,  for- 
merly Councilor  in  the  Maupeou  Parliament ;  convicted,  according  to 
the  polite  formula  of  the  time,  of  "  having  rendered  himself  the  enemy 
of  the  people."  He  figured  in  the  same  cart-load  with  Andre  Chenier. 
The  Reign  of  Terror  might  well  have  spared  Goezman ;  it  had  plenty 
of  more  interesting  men  to  devour,  but  nothing  came  amiss  to  it. 

12 


202  BEAUMARCHAIS  AND    HIS    TIMES. 

that,  in  order  to  carry  out  the  sentence,  the  court  might  send  for  him 
to  his  own  house ;  but  this  sentence  had  been  so  ill  received  by  the 
multitude  assembled  at  the  door  of  the  chamber,  the  judges  had  been 
so  hooted  on  rising,  although  many  of  them  escaped  by  corridors 
which  were  unknown  to  the  public,  they  saw  so  many  signs  of  dis- 
content, that  they  were  not  tempted  to  carry  into  execution  a  sen- 
tence which  only  drew  upon  them  the  '  blame'  of  every  one." 

The  reader  knows  what  a  brilliant  triumph  followed  this 
sentence,  the  execution  of  which  was  prevented  by  Beaumar- 
chais'  popularity.  All  Paris  called  at  his  house,  and  the  Prince 
de  Conti  and  the  Duke  de  Chartres  gave  him  a  brilliant  fete 
on  the  morrow  of  the  very  day  on  which  the  Tribunal  had  at- 
tempted to  brand  him.  M.  de  Sartines  said  to  him,  "  It  is  not 
enough  for  you  to  be  '  blamed,'  it  is  also  necessary  to  be  mod- 
est." When  such  discrepancies  take  place  in  society,  it  is  much 
diseased.  Let  us  add  to  these  particulars,  which  a^-e  known, 
one  of  a  private  and  delicate  nature,  which  I  borrow  from 
Gudin's  manuscript  : 

"  He  had,"  says  Gudin,  "  consolations  more  touching  still  than 
those  of  friendship.  His  celebrity  gained  for  him  the  attention  of  a 
woman  who  was  endowed  with  a  sensitive  heart  and  a  firm  dispo- 
sition, fitted  to  sustain  him  in  the  cruel  combats  in  which  he  had  still 
to  engage.  She  did  not  know  him,  but  her  heart,  moved  by  the  pe- 
rusal of  his  memorials,  was  attracted  to  that  of  this  celebrated  man. 
She  desired  ardently  to  see  him.  I  was  with  him  when,  making 
music  her  pretext,  she  sent  a  man  with  whom  she  was  acquainted, 
and  who  was  also  acquainted  with  Beaumarchais,  to  beg  him  to  lend 
her  his  harp  for  a  few  minutes.  Such  a  request,  under  such  circum- 
stances, revealed  her  meaning.  Beaumarchais  understood  it — ap- 
preciated it,  and  replied, '  I  never  lend  my  harp ;  but  if  she  will  come 
with  you,  I  will  hear  her  and  she  can  hear  me.'  She  came  :  I  was 
a  witness  of  their  first  interview.  I  have  already  said  that  it  was  dif- 
ficult to  see  Beaumarchais  without  loving  him.  What  impression 
must  he  not  have  produced  when  he  was  covered  with  the  applause 
of  all  Paris — when  he  was  looked  upon  as  the  defender  of  oppressed 
liberty — ^the  avenger  of  the  public.  It  was  still  more  difficult  to  re- 
sist the  looks,  the  voice,  the  bearing,  and  the  conversation  of  this  ■ 
young  woman ;  and  the  attraction  which  each  of  them  exercised  upon 
the  other  at  first  sight  increased  from  hour  to  hour,  from  the  variety 
of  their  charms,  and  the  number  of  excellent  qualities  which  each  of 
them  displayed  in  proportion  as  the  acquaintance  increased.  Their 
hearts  were  united  from  this  moment  by  a  bond  which  nothing  could 


FALL    OF   THE   MAUPEOU    PARLIAMENT.  203 

break,  and  which  love,  esteem,  confidence,  time,  and  law  rendered 
indissoluble."* 

These  popular  and  princely  ovations,  this  happiness  of  the 
heart,  more  sweet  still,  doubtless  repaid  Beaumarchais  for  the 
blow  he  had  i-eceived  from  the  Parliament ;  the  blow,  howev- 
er, ^vas  a  severe  one-  Indeed,  the  Maupeou  Parliament  could 
not  long  survive  this  act  of  anger  and  vengeance.  In  inflict- 
ino'  civil  death  on  a  man  whom  public  opinion  carried  in  tri- 
umph, it  had  inflicted  death  on  itself.  The  sleeping  opposi- 
tion awoke,  and  fell  upon  it  with  redoubled  fury.  Pamphlets, 
in  prose  and  verse,  acquired  a  new  vivacity,  j  It  lingered  on 
for  some  months  longer,  amid  public  contempt;  the  end  of 
Louis  XV.'s  reign  hastened  its  fall,  and  one  of  the  first  acts 
of  Louis  XYI.  was  to  re-establish  the  old  Parliament ;  but,  un- 
til the  occurrence  of  this  event,  which  might  still  have  been  at 
some  distance,  the  terrible  sentence  against  Beaumarchais  ex- 
isted with  all  its  consequences.  He  found  his  career  destroy- 
ed ;  two  lawsuits  lost  at  the  same  time,  one  of  which  had  ru- 
ined him  in  fortune  and  honor,  while  the  other,  although  it  re- 
placed him  in  public  esteem,  had  destroyed  him  in  a  legal 
point  of  view,  were  weighing  upon  him  with  all  their  weighf. 

*  The  charming  person  of  whom  Gudin  here  speaks,  and  who  became 
afterward  Beaumarchais'  third  wife,  was  named  Marie-Ther^se  Emilie 
Willermawlaz.  She  was,  as  we  have  already  said  elsewhere,  of  SavIss 
origin,  and  belonged  to  a  distinguished  family  in  Charmey.  I  have 
seen  a  large  portrait  of  her,  in  which  she  is  represented  with  the  cos- 
tume in  which  she  perhaps  appeared  on  the  day  of  the  interview,  for 
she  wears  the  famous  plume  of  feathers  a  la  quesaco,  and  looks  charm- 
ing in  this  head-dress.  Some  of  her  letters,  which  we  shall  quote  in 
their  proper  place,  will  prove,  moreover,  that  she  Was  a  very  remarka- 
ble woman,  from  her  intellect,  wit,  and  disposition. 

t  By  one  of  those  jeux  de  mots,  in  the  Parisian  taste,  it  was  said,  in 
allusion  to  the  Goezman  prosecution,  "  Louis  Quinze  destroyed  the  old 
Parliament,  quinze  louis  will  destroy  the  new."  Bachaumont,  without 
quoting  it,  mentions  a  very  popular  satirical  ballad,  in  which  all  the 
personages  and  incidents  of  this^  suit  were  introduced.  I  found  this 
ballad  among  Julie's  papers,  and  as  there  are  two  copies  of  it,  in  her 
handwriting,  with  diflerent  readings,  and  as  she  often  devoted  herself 
to  this  slightly  burlesque  kind  of  poetry,  I  am  inclined  to  think  that  she 
is  the  author  of  the  ballad  in  question.  Whoever  has  read  the  memo- 
rials against  Goezman  will  recognize  in  this  song  a  suflBciently  good 
caricature  of  all  Beaumarchais'  adversaries. 


204:  BEAUMARCHAIS   AND    HIS    TIMES. 

He  had  to  obtain  the  reconsideration  of  these  two  suits ;  to 
start  with,  it  was  necessary  to  obtain  the  reversal  of  the  last 
sentence. 

To  apply  quietly  for  this  reversal  to  the  Council  of  State 
was  to  expose  himself  to  almost  certain  refusal ;  to  publish  any 
fi^sh  writings  was  impossible.  Louis  XV.,  although  he  had 
been  sometimes  amused  by  the  Memorials  against  Goezman, 
was  nevertheless  very  much  annoyed  by  the  agitation  produced 
by  the  discussion.  He  had  had  the  dangerous  suitor  formally 
enjoined  by  M.  de  Sartines  to  preserve  an  absolute  silence  for 
the  future  ;  but  the  time  allowed  for  appealing  against  the  de- 
cision was  slipping  by,  and  the  sentence  was  about  to  become 
irrevocable.  Happily  for  Beaumarchais,  his  fortune,  always 
a  strange  one,  ordained  that  Louis  XV.,  forming  his  opinion 
of  him  from  the  very  talent  he  had  shown  in  the  Goezman  af- 
fair, thought  he  had  need  of  him.  As  kings  could  then,  by 
means  of  "  letters  of  relief,"  relieve  persons  from  the  effect  of 
the  lapse  of  time  allowed  for  repeals  having  passed  by,  he 
promised  to  enable  him  to  regain  his  civil  position  if  he  ful- 
filled with  zeal  and  success  a  diflBcult  mission  to  which  he  at- 
tached the  greatest  importance — and  the  conqueror  of  the 
Maupeou  Parliament  started  for  London  in  the  capacity  of  se- 
cret agent. 


CHAPTER  XTV. 


Beaumarchais'  secret  Missions. — The  "Journalist  in  Armor." — ^Value 
of  Madame  du  Barry's  Honor. — Death  of  Louis  XV. — The  young 
King. — More  Libels. — The  confidential  Agent. 

The  history  of  Beaumarchais'  secret  mission  is  instructive, 
from  the  light  it  throws  upon  the  system  of  absolute  govern- 
ment. The  weak  sides  of  free  governments  have  been  suffi- 
ciently called  attention  to  during  the  last  few  years,  owing  to 
the  abuse  which  has  been  made  of  liberty,  and  the  sad  conse- 
quences of  this  abuse,  to  render  it,  perhaps,  interesting  for  us 
to  examine  the  reverse  of  the  medal,  and  study  minutely  what 
was  taking  place  behind  the  scenes  of  government  at  a  time 


THE    "JOURNALIST   IN   ABMOR."  205 

when  publicity,  discussion,  and  responsibility  were  strangers 
to  it.  It  will,  perhaps,  not  be  useless  to  show  what  import- 
ance was  then  attached  to  the  most  miserable  trifles,  what  a 
waste  of  the  public  money  took  place  under  the  shelter  of 
ministerial  irresponsibility,  through  what  complicated  roads 
a  man  who  had  been  visited  with  an  unjust  sentence  was 
obliged  to  pass  in  order  to  get  restored  to  his  former  position ; 
and  as,  on  the  other  hand,  this  same  man,  after  being  sentenced 
to  civil  death  by  a  tribunal,  could  become  the  private  agent 
and  correspondent  of  two  kings  and  their  ministers,  and  suc- 
ceed, little  by  little,  through  making  himself  useful  in  small 
manoeuvres  of  secret  diplomacy,  not  only  in  regaining  his  civil 
rights,  but  also  in  getting  an  important  affair,  worthy  of  him- 
self and  his  intelligence,  intrusted  to  him,  and  in  exercising 
in  the  shade  a  considerable  influence,  of  which  hitherto  little 
has  been  known,  on  a  great  event. 

It  will  be  remembered  that  Louis  XV.  had  imposed  an  ab- 
solute silence  on  Beaumarchais,  which  prevented  him  making 
any  effectual  application  for  a  reversal  of  his  sentence.  One 
day,  when  speaking  of  the  latter  with  La  Borde,  he  said  to 
him,  "  It  is  asserted  that  your  friend  has  great  talent  for  ne- 
gotiation ;  if  he  could  be  employed  with  success  and  secrecy 
in  a  matter  which  interests  me,  his  affairs  would  profit  by  it." 
Now  the  following  was  the  grave  subject  which  gave  uneasi- 
ness to  the  old  king. 

There  was  then  in  London  an  adventurer  from  Burgundy 
named  Theveneau  de  Morande,  who,  to  escape  the  conse- 
quences of  the  disorderly  life  he  had  led  in  his  own  country, 
had  taken  refuge  in  England,  where,  finding  himself  without 
resources,  he  dealt  in  scandal,  and  composed  gross  libels, 
which  were  introduced  clandestinely  into  France,  and  in  which 
he  defamed,  insulted,  and  calumniated,  without  distinction,  all 
names,  if  ever  so  little  known,  which  came  under  his  pen. 
Among  other  works,  he  had  published,  under  the  impudent 
title  of  "  The  Journalist  in  Armor,"*  axiollection  of  atrocities 
wliich  perfectly  corresponded  with  the  impudence  of  his  title. 
Profiting  by  the  fear  he  inspired,  he  from  time  to  time  sent 
applications  for  money  across  the  Channel  to  those  who  were 
*  "  Le  Gazetier  cuirasse." 


206  BKAUMAKCHAIS    AND    HIS    TIMES. 

afraid  of  his  attacks.  It  appears,  even,  that  he  attempted  to 
obtain  hush  money  from  Voltaire,  but  without  success ;  the 
philosopher  of  Femey  was  not  to  be  frightened  by  so  little, 
and  he  contented  himself  with  inflicting  publicly  on  "The 
Journalist  in  Armor"  the  expression  of  his  contempt :  Mo- 
rande,  in  a  word,  was  pursuing,  with  less  celebrity,  the  trade 
which,  in  the  sixteenth  century,  had  made  Aretino  surnamed 
the  "  Scourge  of  Princes."  To  a  practitioner  of  this  kind 
Madame  du  Barry  was  a  gold  mine ;  accordingly,  he  had  writ- 
ten to  this  lady  to  announce  to  her  the  forthcoming  publica- 
tion, except  in  case  of  a  handsome  bonus,  of  an  interesting 
work,  founded  upon  her  life,  and  of  which  he  sent  her  the 
prospectus,  bearing  the  following  very  attractive  title  for  a 
certain  class  of  amateurs,  "Memoires  secrets  d'une  femme 
publique."  Any  other  person  than  Madame  du  Barry  might 
have  disdained  the  insults  of  this  pamphleteer,  or  have  prose- 
cuted him  in  the  English  courts ;  it  can  be  understood  that 
Madame  du  Barry  was  not  able  to  take  either  of  these  courses ; 
alarmed  and  enraged,  she  communicated  her  anger  and  her 
fear  to  Louis  XV.,  who  began  by  applying  to  the  King  of 
England  for  Morande's  extradition.  The  English  government 
replied  that,  if  it  was  not  desired  to  prosecute  this  libeler,  it 
would  offer  no  opposition  to  the  removal  of  a  man  who  was 
so  unworthy  the  protection  of  the  English  laws,  but  that  it 
could  not  take  part  in  his  removal,  and  that  it  could  not  even 
permit  it  except  on  one  condition,  that  it  should  be  accom- 
plished with  the  greatest  secrecy,  and  in  such  a  manner  as  not 
to  wound  the  susceptibility  of  the  national  character.  The 
French  ministry  accordingly  sent  a  brigade  of  police  agents  to 
seize  Morande  secretly ;  but  the  latter  was  cunning  and  active ; 
he  had  cori'cspondents  in  Paris,  Occupying,  perhaps,  high  po- 
sitions, who  had  warned  him  of  the  expedition,  and,  not  con- 
tent with  taking  measures  for  rendering  it  abortive,  he  had  de- 
nounced it  in  the  London  journals,  at  the  same  time  giving 
himself  out  as  a  political  exile,  whom  his  persecutors  dared  to 
follow,  even  on  to  the  soil  of  liberty,  thus,  for  the  sake  of  an  ig- 
noble trade,  violating  the  generous  hospitality  which  England 
grants  so  nobly  to  the  vanquished  of  all  parties.  The  En- 
glish public  became  excited,  and  when  the  French  police 


THE    "JOUKNALIST    IN    AKMOK-"  207 

agents  arrived,  they  were  pointed  out  to  the  people,  who  felt 
it  their  duty  to  throw  them  into  the  Thames.  They  had  only 
time  to  conceal  themselves,  and  went  back  as  quickly  as  pos- 
sible, very  much  frightened,  and  swearing  they  would  never 
be  caught  at  such  a  thing  again. 

Proud  of  this  success,  Morande  hastened  the  publication  of 
the  scandalous  work  he  had  prepared.  Three  thousand  cop- 
ies were  printed,  and  ready  to  be  sent  oiF  to  Holland  and  Ger- 
many, to  be  afterward  circulated  throughout  France.  Being 
no  longer  able  to  get  the  author  into  his  power,  Louis  XV.  had 
sent  different  agents  to  treat  with  him ;  but  Morande  kept 
himself  on  the  qui  vive,  would  not  allow  any  one  to  approach 
him,  and,  although  nothing  but  a  shameless  adventurer,  as- 
sumed before  the  English  people  the  character  of  an  avenger 
of  public  morality.  Such  was  the  state  of  things  when  the 
king,  having  exhausted  his  means,  proposed  to  Beaumarchais, 
through  M.  de  la  Borde,  to  start  for  London,  to  treat  with  the 
"Journalist  in  Armor,"  and  purchase  his  silence  and  the  de- 
struction of  his  "  Memoirs  of  Madame  du  Barry."  A  mission 
to  protect  the  honor  of  a  woman  who  had  so  little  to  protect 
as  Madame  du  Barry,  was  not,  it  must  be  admitted,  one  of  a 
very  high  order ;  but,  besides  the  fact  that  in  this  case  the  in- 
terest of  the  King  of  France  was  unfortunately  mixed  up  with 
that  of  his  too  celebrated  mistress,  we  must,  before  casting  the 
stone  at  Beaumarchais,  take  a  just  view  of  his  situation.  It 
must  be  remembered  that,  after  being  branded  with  disgrace  by 
magistrates  of  no  reputation,  and  who  had  been  judges  in  their 
own  case,  he  found  his  only  means  of  reinstating  himself  para- 
lyzed by  the  express  order  of  an  aU-powerful  king,  who  could 
open  or  shut  to  him  the  roads  by  which  the  reversal  of  the 
sentence  was  to  be  obtained ;  who  could  restore  to  him  his 
credit,  his  fortune,  and  his  civil  rights ;  and  this  all-powerful 
king  was  asking  him  a  personal  service,  and  assuring  him  of 
his  gratitude  if  he  performed  it.  The  period  at  which  we  live 
is,  without  doubt,  infinitely  praiseworthy  from  the  austerity  of 
its  principles,  and,  above  all,  of  its  practices.  However,  it  is 
not  very  evident  to  us  that,  under  similar  circumstances,  no 
one  could  be  found  to  run  after  the  mission  which  Beaumar- 
chais contented  himself  with  accepting.     The  brilliant  writer 


208  BEAUMARCHAIS    AND    HIS    TIMES. 

accordingly  went  to  London  in  March,  1774,  and,  as  the  celeh- 
rity  of  his  real  name  might  have  interfered  with  the  success 
of  his  operations,  he  took  the  false  one  of  Ronac,  an  anagram 
of  Caron.  In  a  few  days  he  had  gained  the  confidence  of  the 
libel-wi'iter,  had  completed  a  negotiation  which  had  been  drag- 
ging on  for  eighteen  months,  and,  reappearing  at  Versailles 
with  a  copy  of  the  Memoirs  which  caused  so  much  alarm,  and 
the  manuscript  of  another  libel  by  the  same  author,  received 
the  king's  orders  for  a  final  arrangement.  Louis  XV.,  sur- 
prised at  the  rapidity  of  his  success,  expressed  his  satisfaction 
to  him,  and  referred  him  to  the  Duke  d'Aiguillon  to  arrange 
about  Morande's  terms.  The  minister,  who  was  violently  at- 
tacked in  the  libel,  cared  much  less  about  destroying  it  than 
about  ascertaining  exactly  what  the  author's  connections  were 
in  France.  Hence  arose  a  scene  with  Beaumarphais,  which 
does  honor  to  him,  and  which  we  must  reproduce,  in  order  to 
show  how  he  understood,  and  what  limits  he  assigned  to,  the 
unenviable  part  which  his  situation  caused  him  to  accept. 

"  Too  happy,"  writes  Beaumarchais,  in  an  unpublished  paper,  ad- 
dressed to  Louis  XVL,  after  the  death  of  his  predecessor,  "  too  hap- 
py to  succeed  in  suppressing  these  libels  without  their  being  made  a 
means  of  casting  suspicion  on  all  persons  who  may  happen  to  be  dis- 
pleasing, I  refused  to  play  the  infamous  part  of  informer,  to  become 
the  instrimient  of  a  perhaps  general  prosecution,  and  to  light  up  a  war 
of  bastilles  and  dungeons.  The  Duke  d'Aiguillon,  in  his  anger,  com- 
municated my  refusal  to  the  king ;  his  majesty,  before  condemning 
me,  wished  to  know  my  reasons ;  I  had  the  courage  to  reply  that  I 
could  find  means  of  putting  the  king  beyond  uneasiness  with  regard 
to  all  kinds  of  libels,  both  for  the  present  and  the  future,  but  that  I 
should  think  I  was  dishonoring  myself  completely  if,  on  the  false  in- 
dication or  perfidious  confession  of  a  man  of  such  bad  repute  as  the 
author,  I  were  to  accuse  in  France  persons  who,  perhaps,  had  had  no 
more  connection  than  myself  with  those  unworthy  productions.  Fi- 
nally, I  begged  the  king  not  to  intrust  me  with  this  odious  commission, 
for  which  I  was  less  fitted  than  any  one.  The  king  consented  to 
yield  to  my  reasons  ;  but  the  Duke  d'Aiguillon  retained  a  resentment 
toward  me  for  my  refusal,  of  which  he  gave  me  the  most  insulting 
proofs  on  the  occasion  of  my  second  journey.  I  was  so  disheartened 
that,  without  a  very  particular  order  from  the  king,  I  should  have 
given  it  all  up.  Not  only  did  the  king  wish  me  to  return  to  London, 
but  he  sent  me  back  there  as  his  confidential  commissioner,  to  an- 


VALUE  OF  MADAME  DC  BARRY'S  HONOR.       209 

swer,  in  my  own  name,  for  these  libels  being  entirely  destroyed  by 
fire." 

The  manuscript  and  the  three  thousand  Qopies  of  the  "Mem- 
oirs of  Madame  du  Barry"  were  indeed  burned  in  the  environs 
of  London,  in  a  plaster  furnace ;  but  it  could  hardly  be  imag- 
ined what  this  interesting  operation  cost.  To  purchase  the 
silence  of  Morande,  and  preserve  the  reputation  of  Madame  du 
Barry  from  the  attacks  of  his  pen,  the  French  government  gave 
this  adventurer  20,000  francs  in  ready  money,  besides  an  an- 
nuity of  4000  francs.  It  has  been  erroneously  asserted  that 
this  pension  of  4000  francs  was  suppressed  during  the  follow- 
ing reign.  It  was  not  merely  a  pension,  it  was  an  annuity 
duly  secured.  The  pamphleteer  had  taken  his  precautions, 
and  his  annuity  was  therefore  not  suppressed.  However,  on 
his  application,  Louis  XVI.'s  ministry  bought  half  of  this  an- 
nuity back  from  him  for  a  fresh  sum  of  20,000  francs.*  It 
must  be  confessed  that  Madame  du  Barry's  honor  was  esti- 
mated very  much  above  its  value.  For  the  rest,  this  Morande 
had  conti'ived  to  make  himself  useful.  "  He  was  an  audacious 
poacher,"  writes  Beaumarchais  to  M.  de  Sartines ;  "  I  have 
made  him  an  excellent  game-keeper."  At  a  later  period,  dur- 
ing the  American  war,  he  supplied  the  French  government 
with  information  of  interest. 

The  operation  had  been  more  profitable  to  the  libeler  than 
to  Louis  XV.'s  agent.  "While  the  former  received  20,000 
francs,  and  a  deed  giving  him  an  annuity  of  4000  francs,  Beau- 
marchais, on  returning  to  Versailles  to  receive  the  thanks  of 
the  old  king,  and  preparing  to  remind  him  of  his  promises, 
found  him  dying.     Some  days  afterward  Louis  XV.  was  dead. 

*  The  error  we  have  just  pointed  out  occurs  in  "  Michaud's  Biogra- 
phie  Universelle,"  in  the  article  devoted  to  Morande.  This  article  cer- 
tains several  other  errors ;  it  contains  one  statement  especially  to  the 
effect  that,  after  the  death  of  Louis  XV.,  Morande  had  the  audaci;j  to 
publish  the  work  whose  suppression  had  been  purchased  from  I:im  so 
dearly.  This  is  not  accurate.  Morande  was  then  dependent  upon 
Beaumarchais,  who  would  not  have  permitted  such  a  breach  of  faith. 
The  anonymous  work,  entitled  "Anecdotes  sur  la  Comtesse  de  Barry," 
which  appeared  in  1776,  is  not  by  Morande;  he  is  even  very  much 
abused  in  this  book,  which  Barbier's  "  Dictionnaire  des  Ouvrages 
Anonymes"  attributes  to  Mairobert. 


210  BEADMAECHAIS   AND   HIS   TIMES. 

"  I  reflect  with  astonishment,"  he  writes  at  this  date,  "  on  the 
strange  fate  which  pursues  me.  If  the  king  had  lived  in 
health  for  eight  davs  longer,  I  should  have  regained  my  civil 
rights,  of  which  I  have  been  deprived  by  injustice.  I  had  his 
royal  word  for  it,  and  the  unjust  aversion  with  which  he  had 
been  inspired  toward  me  would  have  changed  to  benevolence, 
and  even  to  predilection."  The  new  king,  caring  much  less 
than  Louis  XV.  for  the  reputation  of  Madame  du  Barry,  might 
be  expected  to  attach  less  importance  to  Beaumarchais'  serv- 
ices. However,  the  manufactory  of  libels  established  in  Lon- 
don was  not  in  want  of  work.  Louis  XVI.  and  his  young 
wife  had  hardly  ascended  the  throne,  amid  the  applause  of  all 
France — which  was  happy  at  seeing  there  was  at  last  an  end 
to  the  scandals  of  the  preceding  reign — when  a  dark  tissue  of 
lies  and  calumnies  were  already  being  prepared  against  them, 
and,  above  all,  against  the  queen.  These  anonymous  insults, 
which  the  conflict  of  opinions  under  free  governments  renders 
at  once  more  rare  and  more  dangerous,  become  aflfairs  of  state 
under  a  regitne  of  silence.  Discussion  being  absent,  it  is  natu- 
rally replaced  by  defamation,  and  the  existence  of  the  govern- 
ing powers  is  worn  out  in  combining  little  plans  for  removing 
little  obstacles,  which  reappear  and  become  multiplied  in- 
cessantly. The  commission  that  Beaumarchais  had  fulfilled 
under  Louis  XV.  suggested  the  idea  of  employing  him  again 
in  operations  of  the  same  nature.  In  passing  from  the  direc- 
tion of  the  police  to  the  ministry  of  marine,  M.  de  Sartines 
had  maintained  friendly  relations  with  him ;  he  himself,  in  the 
sad  position  for  which  he  was  indebted  to  the  Maupeou  Par- 
liament, felt  it  necessary  not  to  let  himself  be  forgotten  by  the 
new  government.  There  was,  moreover,  an  attraction  for  him 
here  which  did  not  exist  in  the  preceding  mission.  To  labor 
for  Louis  XV.  and  Madame  du  Barry  had  been  an  aflfair  of 
necessity ;  to  serve  the  interests  of  a  king  who  was  young, 
true-hearted,  and  honorable,  to  prevent  calumny  from  tarnish- 
ing with  its  impure  breath  the  respect  due  to  a  young,  beauti- 
ful, and  vii'tuous  queen,  was  an  enterprise  which  might  well 
inspire  Beaumarchais  with  a  praiseworthy  and  sincere  zeal. 
Accordingly,  on  this  occasion  he  did  not  Avait  to  be  asked ;  he 
advanced  and  offered  his  services.     "All  the  king  wishes  to 


THE   YOUNG   KING.  211 

know  alone  and  promptly,"  he  writes  to  M.  de  Sartines,  "  all 
he  wishes  to  do  quickly  and  secretly  himself — here  I  am:  I 
have  at  his  service  a  head,  a  heart,  arms,  and  no  tongue.  Be- 
fore the  present  time  I  never  wished  for  a  patron :  this  one 
pleases  me ;  he  is  young,  he  means  well.  Europe  honors  him, 
and  the  French  adore  him.  Let  each  one  in  his  sphere  aid 
this  young  prince  to  deserve  the  admiration  of  the  entire  world, 
of  which  he  has  already  the  esteem." 

As  Beaumarchais'  zeal  could  not,  on  account  of  his  sentence, 
be  made  use  of  officially,  it  was  still  in  the  capacity  of  secret 
agent  that  Louis  XVI.' s  government  sent  him  to  London  in 
June,  1774.  It  was  again  necessary  to  stop  the  publication 
of  a  libel  which  was  considered  dangerous.  This  one  was 
called  "Notice  to  the  Spanish  Branch  on  its  right  to  the 
Throne  of  France  in  default  of  Heirs."  Under  the  appear- 
ance of  a  political  dissertation,  the  pamphlet  -was  specially  di- 
rected against  the  queen  Marie- Antoinette ;  its  author  was 
not  known :  it  was  only  known  that  its  publication  was  in- 
trusted to  an  Italian  Jew,  named  William  Angel  ucci,  who  in 
London  bore  the  name  of  William  Hatkinson,  who  used  a 
number  of  precautions  to  preserve  his  incognito,  and  who  had 
at  his  disposition  enough  money  to  get  two  large  editions  of 
his  libel  printed  at  the  same  time,  one  for  London,  the  other 
for  Amsterdam. 

On  accepting  this  second  mission,  which  was  to  be  so  fertile 
in  adventures,  Beaumarchais,  whether  he  thought  it  necessary 
to  increase  somewhat  the  importance  of  his  part,  or  considered 
this  proof  of  confidence  was  necessary  to  its  success,  had  asked 
for  an  order  written  in  the  king's  own  hand.  The  king,  on 
his  side,  fearing  doubtless  that  the  negotiator  might  make  too 
free  a  use  of  his  name,  had  refused  it ;  Beaumarchais  went  off, 
nevertheless ;  but  he  was  tenacious,  skillful,  and  little  accus- 
tomed to  give  up  what  he  wished  for  ;  and  it  is  rather  curious 
to  observe  how,  in  a  series  of  letters  to  M.  de  Sartines,  he 
came  back  to  the  charge  incessantly,  in  a  thousand  different 
ways,  until  he  at  last  obtained  what  had  been  in  the  first  in- 
stance refused.  "  He  can  do  nothing  without  this  order  writ- 
ten in  the  king's  hand.  Lord  Rochford,  formerly  the  English 
embassador  at  Madrid,  with  whom  he  is  intimate,  and  who 


212  BEAUMARCHAIS    AND    IHS   TIMES. 

might  serve  him  usefully  as  minister  at  London,  will  not  put 
himself  forward  if  he  is  not  certain  that  a  personal  service  has 
to  be  rendered  to  the  king.  Plow  can  it  be  feared  that  he  will 
compromise  the  king's  name?  This  sacred  name,"  he  says, 
"  will  be  looked  upon  by  me  as  the  Israelites  regarded  the  su- 
preme name  of  Jehovah,  the  syllables  of  which  they  dared  not 

pronounce  except  in  cases  of  supreme  necessity The 

presence  of  the  king,  it  is  said,  is  worth  fifty  thousand  men  to 
the  army :  who  knows  how  much  his  name  may  spare  me  in 
guineas  ?"  After  having  developed  his  argument  in  the  most 
varied  manner,  Beaumarchais,  seeiag  that  it  does  not  succeed, 
undertakes  to  prove  to  M.  de  Sartines  that  unless  he  obtains 
what  he  desires  his  mission  fails,  and  that  if  it  fails  M.  de 
Sartines  himself  is  lost : 

"  If  the  work  sees  the  day,"  he  writes, "  the  queen,  justly  indignant, 
will  soon  know  that  it  might  have  been  suppressed,  and  that  you  and 
myself  had  undertaken  to  suppress  it.  I  am  as  yet  nothing,  and  can 
not  fall  from  very  high ;  but  you !  Do  you  know  any  woman  who 
forgives  an  insult  1  '  They  could  stop,'  she  would  say,  '  the  work 
which  calumniated  the  late  king  and  his  mistress ;  by  what  odious 
predilection  have  they  allowed  this  one  to  circulate  V  Will  she  ex- 
amine whether  the  intrigue  which  affects  her  is  not  better  combined 
than  the  other,  and  whether  precautions  have  not  been  better  taken 
by  those  who  have  watched'?  She  will  only  see  you  and  me.  For 
want  of  knowing  whom  to  attack,  she  will  let  all  her  anger  fall  upon 
us ;  and  its  least  effect  will  be,  to  insinuate  to  the  king  that  you  are 
nothing  but  an  unskillful  minister,  of  few  resources,  and  scarcely  fitted 
for  great  things.  As  for  me,  I  shall  perhaps  be  looked  upon  as  a  man 
who  has  been  bought  over  by  the  adversary,  whoever  he  may  be ; 
they  will  not  even  do  me  the  favor  to  think  that  I  am  only  a  fool, 
they  will  think  I  am  a  rogue.  Then  let  us  be  prepared,  you  to  see 
credit  weakened,  fall  and  perish,  and  I  to  become  what  it  may  please 
the  fate  which  pursues  me." 

In  the  same  letter  Beaumarchais  indicates  a  somewhat  in- 
genious process  for  the  use  of  negotiators  of  all  kinds  who 
might  happen  to  blush : 

"  I  have  seen  Lord  Rochford,"  he  writes, "  and  found  him  as  friend- 
ly as  ever ;  but  when  I  explained  this  affair  to  him,  he  remained  as 
cold  as  ice.  I  tried  him  in  every  way ;  I  appealed  to  his  friendship ; 
claimed  his  confidence  ;  excited  his  amour  propre,  by  giving  him  to 
hope  that  he  would  be  making  himself  agreeable  to  our  king ;  but  I 


TUE    COXFIDENTIAL   AGENT.  213 

could  tell  by  the  nature  of  his  answers  that  he  looked  upon  my  com- 
mission as  a  police  affair  and  one  of  espionage,  in  a  word,  as  an  un- 
derhand proceeding ;  and  as  the  idea  which  he  had  formed  suddenly 
filled  my  heart  with  humiliation  and  mortification,  I  blushed  like  a 
man  who  had  degraded  himself  by  a  vile  commission.  I  must  add 
that,  feeling  myself  blush,  I  stooped  as  if  my  buckle  had  hurt  my  foot, 
so  that,  on  rising,  my  redness  could  pass  for  the  natural  effect  of  a  rush 
of  blood  to  the  head  in  consequence  of  the  position  I  had  taken.  This 
lord  is  not  very  cunning ;  in  any  case  he  will  not  serve  me,  and  I  run 
the  greatest  risk  of  not  succeeding.  I  have  already  explained  the 
fatal  consequences  of  such  a  thing.  This  may  be  the  speck  of  a  storm, 
which  will  burst  in  all  its  violence  over  your  head  and  mine.  You 
must  do  impossibilities  to  induce  the  king  to  send  me  an  order  or 
commission,  bearing  his  signature  in  terms  similiar  to  those  which  I 
gave  in  my  second  extract,  and  which  I  will  copy  at  the  end  of  this 
letter ;  the  task  is  as  delicate  as  it  is  now  essential  for  you.  So 
many  beggars  and  scamps  have  come  to  London  in  reference  to  the 
last  libel,  that  every  thing  which  appears  connected  with  the  same 
object  can  only  be  looked  upon  here  with  great  contempt.  This  is 
the  basis  of  your  argument  with  the  king,  but  give  him  the  details  of 
my  visit  to  the  lord.  It  is  certain  that  this  minister — although  my 
friend — can  not  be  decently  required  to  confide  in  me  for  the  advant- 
age of  my  master,  if  this  master  makes  no  difference  between  the 
delicate  and  secret  mission  with  which  he  honors  an  honest  man,  and 
the  order  which  he  issues  to  a  police-officer,  who  undertakes  one  of 
his  ordinary  inquiries." 

In  this  long  dispatch  to  M.  de  Sartines,  of  which  we  quote 
only  a  small  portion,  the  reader,  not  to  speak  of  the  extreme 
freedom  of  Beaumarchais'  relations  with  the  minister,  will 
see  with  what  clever  persistence  he  brings  every  thing  back  to 
his  fixed  idea,  that  of  obtaining  a  written  order  in  the  hand  of 
the  king.  There  is,  doubtless,  some  exaggeration  in  his  rea- 
soning ;  he  is  a  man  who  wishes  his  services  to  be  valued,  and 
increases,  as  much  as  he  can,  both  the  importance  of  a  libel, 
the  danger  of  displeasing  an  irritated  queen,  and  the  fragile 
tenure  of  a  minister.  There  is  also  something  true  in  this 
argument,  as  applicable  to  governments  in  which  personal 
questions  absorb  all  others.  M.  de  Sartines  no  doubt  thought, 
at  last,  that  his  ministerial  prospects  were  bound  up  with  Beau- 
marchais' wishes,  for  he  made  the  young  king  copy  the  form 
of  an  order  which  his  correspondent,  with  Avonderful  aplomb, 
had  composed  himself,  and  which  was  in  the  following  terms : 


214  BEAUMARCHAIS  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

"  M,  de  Beaumarchais,  intrusted  with  my  secret  orders,  will  leave 
for  his  destination  as  soon  as  he  possibly  can ;  the  discretion  and 
promptness  he  may  display  in  their  execution  will  be  the  most  agree- 
able proof  he  can  give  me  of  his  zeal  for  my  service.  Louis. 

"Marly,  JtUy  10,  1774." 

I  have  not  found,  in  the  papers  which  were  intrusted  to 
me,  the  text  of  this  order,  written  in  the  king's  hand ;  but  it 
is  seen  from  the  letter  which  follows  the  one  just  given  that 
Beaumarchais  at  last  received  it : 

"  The  order  of  my  master,"  he  writes  to  M.  de  Sartines,  "  is  still 
in  its  virginity ;  that  is  to  say,  it  has  been  seen  by  no  one  ;  but  if  it 
has  not  yet  served  me  in  connection  with  other  persons,  it  has  never- 
theless been  of  wonderful  assistance  to  myself  in  increasing  my 
strength  and  doubling  my  courage." 

In  another  dispatch  Beaumarchais  addresses  the  king  him- 
self in  the  following  terms : 

"  A  lover  carries  round  his  neck  the  portrait  of  his  mistress ;  a  • 
miser  fastens  his  keys  there  ;  a  devotee  his  reliquary ;  as  for  myself, 
I  have  had  a  gold  box  made,  large,  oval,  and  flat,  in  the  form  of  a 
lens,  in  which  I  have  inclosed  your  majesty's  order,  suspending  it  by 
a  little  gold  chain  to  my  neck,  as  the  thing  which  is  most  necessary 
for  my  labors  and  most  precious  to  myself." 

Once  decorated  with  his  gold  box  round  his  neck,  the  nego- 
tiator went  to  work,  entered  into  relations  with  the  Jew  An- 
gelucci,  and  endeavored  to  persuade  him  to  destroy  a  libel,  for 
the  publication  of  which  the  secret  enemies  of  the  queen  had 
offered  him  every  thing.  He  succeeded  by  a  great  outlay  of 
eloquence,  but  also,  as  usual,  by  a  great  outlay  of  money. 
For  1400  pounds  sterling  (about  35,000  francs)  the  Jew  aban- 
doned his  speculation.  The  two  contracting  parties  went  after- 
ward to  Amsterdam  to  destroy  the  Dutch  edition  also.  Beau- 
marchais made  Angelucci  agree  in  wTiting  to  the  fairest  con- 
ditions in  the  world,  and,  free  from  all  care,  gave  himself  up 
to  the  pleasure  of  visiting  Amsterdam  in  the  capacity  of  a 
tourist.  All  at  once  he  heard  that  the  astute  child  of  Israel, 
of  whom  he  had  thought  himself  sure,  had  started  suddenly 
and  secretly  for  Nuremberg,  taking  away  with  him  the  money 
he  had  given  him,  and  a  volume  which  had  escaped  his  observ- 
ation, and  which  was  about  to  be  reprinted.     Beaumarchais 


A   KOMA^•nC    AD\'XNTUIIE.  215 

became  furious,  and  prepared  to  follow  him.  His  letters  at 
this  period  of  his  negotiation  exhibit  a  feverish  impatience. 

"  I  am  like  a  lion,"  he  writes  to  M.  de  Sartines  ;  "  I  have  no  more 
money,  but  I  have  diamonds  and  jewels ;  I  am  going  to  sell  every 
thing,  and,  with  rage  in  my  heart,  1  must  recommence  traveling  like 
a  postillion.  I  do  not  understand  German,  the  roads  I  am  to  take  are 
unknown  to  me,  but  I  have  procured  a  good  map,  and  I  already  see 
that  I  must  go  to  Nimeguen,  to  Cleves,  to  Dusseldorf,  to  Cologne,  to 
Frankfort,  to  Mayence,  and  finally  to  Nuremberg.  1  shall  travel  day 
and  night  if  I  do  not  drop  from  fatigue  on  the  road.  Woe  to  the 
abominable  man  who  forces  me  to  go  three  or  four  hundred  leagues 
farther,  when  I  thought  I  was  about  to  repose.  If  I  find  him  on  the 
road,  I  shall  strip  him  of  his  papers  and  kill  him,  for  the  pain  and 
trouble  he  has  caused  me." 

Such  was  the  state  of  mind  in  which  Beaumarchais  pursued 
the  Jew  Angelucci  through  Grcrmany.  He  met  with  him  at 
last  near  Nuremberg,  at  the  entrance  to  the  forest  of  Neustadt, 
^trotting  along  on  a  little  horse,  and  little  suspecting  that  any 
thing  disagreeable  was  galloping  behind  him.  At  the  sound 
of  the  post-chaise  Angelucci  turned  round,  and  recognizing  the 
man  he  had  deceived,  rushed  into  the  wood.  Beaumarchais 
jumped  from  his  post-chaise  and  pursued  him,  pistol  in  hand. 
Before  long  the  Jew's  horse,  impeded  by  the  trees,  which  be- 
came thicker  and  thicker,  was  forced  to  stop.  Beaumarchais 
seized  his  man  by  the  boot,  threw  him  off  his  horse,  turned 
his  pockets  out,  and  emptied  his  valise,  at  the  bottom  of  which 
he  found  the  copy  which  had  escaped  his  vigilance.  In  the 
mean  wliile  Angelucci's  supplications  somewhat  softened  the 
ferocious  temper  we  have  just  seen  him  exhibit ;  he  not  only 
did  not  kill  him,  but  even  left  him  a  portion  of  the  bank-notes 
which  he  had  given  him.  After  this  operation,  he  came  back 
through  the  forest  to  regain  his  carriage,  when  an  incident 
occurred  which  is  already  known  from  a  letter  published  in 
his  works.  Just  after  he  had  quitted  Angelucci,  he  found 
himself  attacked  by  two  brigands,  one  of  whom,  armed  with 
a  long  knife,  asked  him  for  his  money  or  his  life.  He  snapped 
his  pistol  at  him,  but  the  priming  did  not  take :  after  being 
knocked  down  from  behind,  he  received  a  blow  from  a  knife, 
which  was  aimed  full  at  his  breast,  and  which  happily  came 
against  the  famous  gold  box  containing  Louis  XVI. 's  note ; 


216  BEAUMARCHAIS   AKD   HIS   TIMES. 

the  point  slid  along  the  metal,  scarred  the  breast,  and  went 
into  Beaumarchais'  chin.  He  rose  by  a  desperate  effort,  tore 
the  knife  from  the  robber — wounding  himself  in  the  hand  with 
the  blade — knocked  him  down  in  his  turn,  and  was  about  to 
throttle  him ;  but  the  second  assassin,  who  had  at  first  run 
away,  returned  with  his  companions,  and  the  scene  was  about 
to  become  fatal  to  Louis  XVI.'s  secret  agent,  when  the  arrival 
of  his  servant  and  the  sound  of  the  postillion's  horn  put  the 
robbers  to  flight.* 

All  this  narrative  is  so  romantic,  that  we  should  hesitate 
about  believing  it  if  the  papers  relating  to  this  affair  did  not 
contain  a  proces-verbal,  drawn  up  by  the  burgomaster  of  Nu- 
remberg, at  the  command  of  Maria-Theresa,  after  another  in- 
cident not  less  extraordinary,  which  we  shall  presently  relate. 
In  this  proces-verbcU,  dated  September  7,  1774,  the  citizen 
Conrad  Gruber,  keeping  the  inn  of  the  Red  Cock  at  Nurem- 
berg, sets  forth  how  M.  de  Ronac,  that  is  to  say,  Beaumar- 
chais, arrived  at  his  house,  wounded  in  the  face  and  hand,  on 
the  evening  of  the  14th  of  August,  after  the  scene  in  the  wood  ; 
and  he  adds  a  detail  which  quite  confirms  the  feverish  state 
which  we  thought  we  could  perceive  in  Beaumarchais'  own 
letters.  He  declares  that  M.  de  Ronac  had  been  very  restless, 
that  he  had  risen  very  early  in  the  morning,  and  had  run  all 
over  the  house,  so  that,  to  judge  from  all  his  conduct,  his 
mind  appeared  to  be  wandering  a  little. 

Such  a  complication  of  incidents  might  well  have  produced 
on  Beaumarchais'  brain  the  excitement  which  this  worthy 
Conrad  Gruber  mistook  for  mental  alienation ;  but  the  trav- 
eler was  not  yet  at  the  end  of  his  adventures,  and  the  last  one 
was  to  surpass  all  the  others  in  the  extraordinary  nature  of  its 
incidents. 

Fearing  that,  after  his  departure  from  Nuremberg,  the  Jew 
Angelucci  would  go  there  with  some  other  copy  of  the  libel, 
and  thinking  it  would  be  more  advantageous  to  get  him  arrest- 
ed and  conducted  to  France,  Beaumarchais  determined  to  reach 

*  In  the  letter  wTitten  from  Germany  to  be  shown  to  his  friends,  and 
■which  was  published  during  his  lifetime,  Beaumarchais  only  relates  the 
scene  of  the  two  robbers ;  he  does  not  say  a  word  in  reference  to  his 
secret  mission  to  the  Jew  Angelucci. 


AN   IKTEBVIEW   WITH   THE   EMPRESS.  217 

Vienna,  to  solicit  an  audience  from  Maria-Theresa,  and  to  beg 
the  empress  to  grant  an  order  for  the  man's  extradition.  As 
the  sufferings  occasioned  by  his  wounds  rendered  a  land 
journey  too  painful,  he  reached  the  Danube,  hired  a  boat, 
embarked,  and  arrived  at  Vienna.  Here  we  will  let  him 
speak  for  himself ;  the  details  which  follow,  and  which  have 
remained  completely  unknown  until  now,  are  so  curious,  and 
narrated  with  so  much  vividness,  that  the  extract  will  perhaps 
not  appear  too  long.  We  borrow  it  from  a  voluminous  and 
unpublished  document  addressed  by  Beaumarchais  to  Louis 
XVI.,  after  his  return  to  France,  and  bearing  the  date  of  the 
loth  of  October,  1774 : 

"  My  first  thought  at  Vienna,"  writes  Beaumarchais, "  was  to  pre- 
pare a  letter  for  the  empress.  Fearing  that  the  letter  might  not  be 
seen  by  her  alone,  I  abstained  from  explaining  my  motive  in  sohcit- 
ing  an  audience.  I  endeavored  simply  to  excite  her  curiosity.  As 
I  could  obtain  no  access  to  her,  I  went  to  the  Baron  de  Neny,  her 
secretary,  who,  on  my  refusing  to  tell  him  what  I  wanted,  took  me 
apparently  for  some  Irish  officer  or  some  wounded  adventurer,  who 
wished  to  extort  a  few  ducats  from  her  majesty's  pity.  He  received 
me  as  badly  as  possible  ;  refused  to  take  charge  of  my  letter  unless 
I  told  him  my  secret,  and  would,  in  short,  have  shown  me  the  door ; 
but  assuming  in  my  turn  a  tone  as  haughty  as  his,  I  assured  him 
that  I  held  him  responsible  toward  the  empress  for  all  the  evil  his 
refusal  might  do  to  this  most  important  transaction,  unless  he  in- 
stantly undertook  to  convey  my  letter  to  his  sovereign.  More  as- 
tonished at  my  tone  than  he  had  been  at  my  appearance,  he  took 
my  letter  reluctantly,  and  told  me  I  must  not  hope  from  that  that  the 
empress  would  consent,  to  see  me.  '  That,  sir,  need  not  distress 
you ;  if  the  empress  refuses  me  an  audience,  you  and  myself  will 
have  done  our  duty  ;  the  rest  is  a  matter  of  fortune.' 

"  The  next  day  the  empress  admitted  me  to  an  interview  with  the 
Count  de  Seilern,  President  of  the  Council  at  Vienna,  who,  on  my 
simply  setting  forth  that  I  wtis  intrusted  with  a  mission  from  the 
King  of  France,  which  I  wished  to  explain  personally  to  the  em- 
press, proposed  to  conduct  me  immediately  to  Schoenbrunn,  where 
her  majesty  was.  I  went  there,  although  my  journey  of  the  previous 
evening  had  much  increased  my  sufferings. 

"  I  first  showed  the  empress  your  majesty's  order,  sire,  the  writing 
of  which,  as  she  told  me,  she  at  once  recognized ;  adding,  that  I 
could  speak  freely  before  the  Count  de  Seilern,  from  whom  her 

E 


218  BEAUMARCHAIS   AND   HIS  TIMES. 

majesty  assured  me  she  had  no  secrets,  and  by  whose  counsels  she 
had  always  profited. 

" '  Madame,'  I  said  to  her, '  it  is  less  a  question  of  a  state  interest, 
properly  so  called,  than  of  the  efforts  which  dark  intriguers  are  mak- 
ing in  France  to  destroy  the  happiness  of  the  queen  by  disturbing  the 
king's  peace  of  mind.'  1  then  gave  her  the  particulars  which  have 
just  been  read.*  At  each  incident,  joining  her  hands  in  surprise,  the 
empress  repeated,  '  But,  sir,  where  did  you  acquire  so  ardent  a  zeal 
for  the  interests  of  my  son-in-law,  and,  above  all,  of  my  daughter  V 
'  Madame,  I  was  one  of  the  most  unfortunate  men  in  France  toward 
the  close  of  the  last  reign.  The  queen,  in  those  dreadful  times,  did 
not  disdain  to  show  some  sympathy  for  all  the  horrors  which  were 
accumulating  upon  me.  In  serving  her  now,  without  even  a  hope 
that  she  will  ever  know  of  it,  I  am  only  acquitting  an  immense  debt ; 
the  greater  the  difficulty  of  my  enterprise,  the  more  eager  I  am  for 
its  success.  The  queen  deigned  one  day  to  say  aloud  that  1  shojved 
too  much  courage  and  esprit  in  my  defense  to  have  committed  the 
wrongs  which  were  imputed  to  me.  What  would  she  say  now, 
madame,  if,  in  an  affair  which  equally  interests  her  and  the  king,  she 
were  to  see  me  fail  in  that  courage  and  in  that  behavior  which  she 
calls  "  esprit  V  She  would^  conclude  from  it  that  I  have  been  want- 
ing in  zeal.  "  This  man,"  she  would  say,  "  managed  in  eight  days 
to  destroy  a  libel  which  slandered  the  late  king  and  his  mistress, 
when  the  ministers  of  England  and  France  had  been  making  vain  ef- 
forts, during  eighteen  months,  to  prevent  its  appearance.  At  the 
present  time,  intrusted  with  a  like  mission,  he  fails  to  succeed  in  it; 
either  he  is  a  traitor  or  he  is  a  fool,  and  in  either  case  is  equally  un- 
worthy of  the  confidence  which  has  been  placed  in  him."  Such, 
madame,  are  the  high  motives  which  have  made  me  brave  every 
danger,  despise  every  suffering,  and  surmount  every  obstacle.' 

" '  But,  sir,  what  necessity  was  there  for  you  to  change  your  name? 

" '  Madame,  I  am,  unfortunately,  only  too  well  known  under  my 
own  throughout  the  whole  of  literary  Europe,  and  my  printed  de- 
fense in  my  last  affair  has  so  excited  every  mind  in  my  favor,  that 
wherever  I  appear  under  the  name  of  Beaumarchais,  whether  I  ex- 
cite an  interest  which  proceeds  from  friendship  or  from  compassion, 
or  only  from  curiosity,  I  am  visited,  invited,  surrounded,  and  am  no 
longer  free  to  work  so  secretly  as  so  delicate  a  commission  as  mine 
requires ;  that  is  why  I  have  begged  the  king  to  allow  me  to  travel 
under  the  name  of  Ronac,  in  which  my  passport  is  made  out.' 

"  The  empress  appeared  to  have  the  greatest  curiosity  to  read  the 
work  whose  destruction  had  caused  me  so  much  trouble.     She  read 

•  That  is  to  say,  the  account  of  all  his  operations,  of  which  we  have 
given  an  abstract,  until  his  arrival  at  Vienna. 


AN   INTEBVIEW   WITH   THE   EMPBESS.  219 

it  immediately  after  our  explanation.  Her  majesty  had  the  kindness 
to  enter  with  me  into  the  minutest  details  upon  the  subject.  She  was 
also  kind  enough  to  listen  to  me  a  long  time.  I  remained  more  than 
three  hours  and  a  half  with  her,  and  begged  her  several  times,  with 
the  most  earnest  entreaties,  not  to  lose  a  moment  in  sending  to  Nu- 
remberg. *  But  would  this  man  have  dared  to  show  himself  there, 
knowing  that  you  were  there  yourself?'  said  the  empress.  '  Madame, 
by  way  of  giving  him  a  fresh  inducement  to  go  there,  1  deceived  him 
by  telling  him  that  I  was  about  to  retrace  my  steps  and  to  return  im- 
mediately to  France.  Besides,  he  either  is  or  is  not  there.  In  the 
former  case,  by  having  him  taken  back  to  France,  your  majesty  will 
render  an  essential  service  to  the  king  and  queen  ;  in  the  latter,  there 
will,  at  most,  be  only  a  step  lost,  in  addition  to  one  which  I  beg  your 
majesty  to  have  executed  secretly  by  searching  for  some  time  in  all 
the  printing-offices  of  Nuremberg,  so  as  to  make  sure  that  this  in- 
famous work  is  not  being  reprinted  there,  for,  with  the  precautions  I 
have  taken  elsewhere,  I  can  answer  for  England  and  Holland.' 

"  The  empress  carried  her  kindness  so  far  as  to  thank  me  for  the 
ardent  and  thoughtful  zeal  which  I  exhibited.  She  begged  me  to 
leave  her  the  pamphlet  until  the  next  day,  giving  me  her  sacred  word 
that  she  would  send  it  back  to  me  by  M.  de  Seilern.  '  Go  to  bed,' 
she  said  to  me,  with  infinite  grace, '  and  get  bled  without  delay.*  It 
ought  never  to  be  forgotten,  either  here  or  in  France,  how  much  zeal 
you  have  shown  on  this  occasion  for  the  interests  of  your  master  and 
mistress.' 

"  I  only  enter,  sire,  into  all  these  details  in  order  to  make  their 
contrast  with  the  conduct  which  was  soon  to  be  adopted  toward  me 
more  strongly  felt.  I  returned  to  Vienna,  my  head  still  heated  by 
this  conference.  I  cast  upon  paper  a  multitude  of  reflections  which 
appeared  to  me  to  have  much  importance  relatively  to  the  object  in 
question.  Count  de  Seilern  undertook  to  show  them  to  her.  In  the 
mean  while,  my  book  was  not  returned  me,  and  the  same  day,  at  nine 
in  the  evening,  I  saw  eight  grenadiers  with  fixed  bayonets,  and  two 
officers  with  drawn  swords,  enter  my  room,  with  an  imperial  secre- 
tary, bearing  a  message  from  Count  de  Seilern,  in  which  he  invited 
me  to  allow  myself  to  be  arrested,  reserving  to  himself,  he  said, '  to 
explain  to  me,  orally,  his  reasons  for  this  conduct,  which  I  should 
certainly  approve.'    '  No  resistance,'  said  the  bearer  of  the  orders. 

" '  Sir,'  replied  I,  calmly, '  I  offer  resistance  sometimes  to  thieves, 
but  never  to  emperors.' 

"  Seals  were  placed  on  all  my  papers  ;  I  asked  permission  to  write 

*  These  words  of  the  empress,  "Get  bled  without  delay,"  might  well 
be  the  result  of  a  similar  impression  to  that  of  the  imi-keeper,  Conrad 
Gruber. 


220  BEAUMARCHAIS   AND    HIS   TIMES. 

to  the  empress,  which  was  refused  me.  All  my  property  was  taken 
from  me — my  knife,  my  scissors,  even  my  buckles,  and  this  numer- 
ous guard  was  left  in  my  room,  where  it  remained  thirty-one  days, 
or  44,640  minutes  ;  for,  while  the  hours  pass  so  rapidly  to  the  hap- 
py that  they  can  scarcely  perceive  that  they  succeed  one  another, 
the  unhappy  mince  the  hours  of  grief  into  minutes  and  seconds,  each 
of  which,  taken  separately,  appears  very  long  to  them.*  During  the 
whole  of  this  time,  one  of  the  grenadiers,  with  his  bayonet  fixed,  kept 
his  eyes  upon  me,  whether  I  was  awake  or  asleep. 

"  Judge  of  my  surprise,  my  anger !  To  think  of  my  health  during 
this  frightful  period  was  impossible.  The  person  who  had  arrested 
me  came  to  see  me  the  following  day  to  tranquilize  me.  '  Sir,"  I  said 
to  him,  '  there  is  no  rest  for  me  until  I  have  written  to  the  empress. 
What  happens  to  me  is  inconceivable.  Let  me  have  pens  and  pa- 
per, or  prepare  to  chain  me  up  before  long,  for  this  is  enough  to  drive 
me  mad.' 

"  At  last  I  was  allowed  to  write  ;  M.  de  Sartines  has  all  my  letters, 
which  were  sent  to  him ;  let  them  be  read  ;  it  will  be  seen  what  was 
the  nature  of  the  grief  which  was  destroying  me.  Nothing  of  a  per- 
sonal nature  affected  me ;  all  my  despair  arose  from  the  horrible 
sin  which  was  being  committed  at  Vienna  against  the  interests  of 
your  majesty  by  keeping  me  a  prisoner  there.  '  Let  me  be  fettered 
in  my  carriage,'  I  said,  *  and  taken  back  to  France.  I  do  not  listen 
to  the  dictates  of  pride  when  duty  becomes  so  pressing.  Either  I 
am  M.  de  Beauraarchais,  or  I  am  a  scoundrel  who  is  assuming  his 
name  and  his  mission.  In  either  case,  it  is  against  all  good  diplomacy 
to  make  me  lose  a  month  at  Vienna.  If  I  am  a  knave,  by  sending 
me  back  to  France  my  punishment  will  be  only  hastened  ;  but  if  I 
am  Beauraarchais,  about  which  it  is  impossible  there  can  be  any 
doubt  after  what  has  taken  place,  if  people  had  been  paid  to  injure 
the  interests  of  the  king  my  master,  they  could  not  do  any  thing 
worse  than  arrest  me  at  Vienna  at  a  time  when  I  could  be  of  use 
elsewhere.'  No  answer.  I  was  left  eight  entire  days  in  this  killing 
distress.  At  last  an  imperial  councilor  was  sent  to  interrogate  me. 
'  I  protest,  sir,'  I  said  to  him,  '  against  the  violence  which  is  done  to 
me  here,  to  the  contempt  of  all  justice ;  I  come  to  invoke  maternal 
solicitude,  and  find  myself  overwhelmed  beneath  the  weight  of  impe- 
rial authority.'  .  He  proposed  I  should  write  what  I  wanted,  oflTering 
to  be  the  bearer  of  it.  I  showed  in  my  letter  the  injury  which  had 
been  done  to  the  interests  of  the  king  by  keeping  me  with  my  arms 
crossed  at  Vienna.  I  wrote  to  M.  de  Sartines ;  I  begged  him  at 
least  to  send  oflf  a  courier  by  diligence.  I  renewed  my  prayers  on 
the  subject  of  Nuremberg.     No  answer.     They  left  me  a  prisoner 

*  A  souvenir  of  watchmaking  very  well  adapted  to  the  situation. 


UNDER   ABREST.  221 

an  entire  month  without  deigning  to  set  my  mind  at  rest  on  any  sub- 
ject. Then,  collecting  all  my  philosophy,  and  yielding  to  the  fatal- 
ity of  so  disastrous  a  star,  I  devoted  myself  at  length  to  taking  care 
of  my  health.  I  had  myself  bled,  drugged,  and  purged.  They  had 
treated  me  like  a  suspicious  character  in  arresting  me ;  like  a  lunatic 
in  taking  away  my  razors,  knives,  scissors,  &c. ;  like  a  fool  in  re- 
fusing me  pen  and  ink  ;  and  it  was  in  the  midst  of  all  these  evils,  dis- 
quietude, and  annoyance  that  I  waited  for  M.  de  Sartines'  letter. 

"  On  giving  it  me,  the  thirty-first  day  of  my  detention,  they  said 
to  me, '  You  are  free,  sir,  to  remain  or  to  go  away,  according  to  your 
desire  or  your  health.'  '  If  I  should  die  on  the  road,'  I  replied, '  I 
would  not  remain  a  quarter  of  an  hour  longer  at  Vienna.'  I  was  pre- 
sented with  a  thousand  ducats  on  the  part  of  the  empress.  I  refused 
them  with  pride,  but  with  firmness.  '  You  have  no  other  money  to 
start  with,'  they  said  to  me  ; '  all  your  property  is  in  France.'  '  I  will 
give  my  bill,  then,  in  return  for  what  I  can  not  avoid  borrowing  for 
my  journey.'  '  Sir,  an  empress  does  not  lend  money.'  'And  I  ac- 
cept no  favors  except  from  my  master ;  and  he  is  sufficiently  noble 
to  reward  me  if  I  have  served  him  well ;  but  I  will  receive  nothing ; 
I  will,  above  all,  receive  no  money  from  a  foreign  power  by  which  I 
have  been  so  odiously  treated.'  '  Sir,  the  empress  will  consider  you 
are  taking  a  great  liberty  with  her  in  venturing  to  refuse.'  '  Sir,  the 
only  liberty  which  a  man  who  is  very  respectful,  but  who  has  been 
cruelly  insulted,  can  not  be  prevented  from  taking,  is  that  of  refusing 
a  favor.  For  the  rest,  the  king  my  master  will  decide  whether  I 
have  been  wrong  in  pursuing  this  conduct ;  but,  until  his  decision,  I 
can  not  and  will  not  adopt  any  other.' 

"  The  same  evening  I  started  from  Vienna,  and,  traveling  day  and 
night  without  rest,  I  arrived  at  Paris  the  ninth  day  of  my  journey, 
hoping  that  some  light  would  there  be  thrown  on  so  incredible  an  ad- 
venture as  that  of  my  imprisonment  at  Vienna.  The  only  thing  M. 
de  Sartines  said  to  me  on  the  subject  was,  that  the  empress  had  taken 
me  for  an  adventurer ;  but  I  had  shown  her  an  order  in  the  hand- 
writing of  your  majesty ;  I  had  entered  into  details  which,  in  my 
opinion,  could  have  left  her  no  doubt  respecting  me.  In  considera- 
tion of  this,  1  venture  to  hope,  sire,  that  your  majesty  will  not  disap- 
prove of  my  persistence  in  refusing  the  money  of  the  empress,  and 
will  permit  me  to  send  it  back  to  her.  I  might  have  looked  upon  it 
as  a  sort  of  flattering  compensation  for  the  error  which  had  been 
made  with  respect  to.  me  if  I  had  received  a  kind  message  from  the 
empress,  or  her  portrait,  or  any  similar  mark  of  honor,  with  which  I 
could  have  met  the  reproach  which  is  made  to  me  every  where  of 
having  been  arrested  at  Vienna  as  a  suspicious  character ;  but  mon- 
ey, sire !  it  is  the  climax  of  humiliation  for  me ;  and  I  do  not  think 


222  BEAUMARCHAIS   AND   HIS   TIMES. 

that  I  deserved  it  for  the  reward  of  the  activity,  zeal,  and  courage 
with  which  I  fulfilled  my  most  hazardous  commission  to  the  best  of 
my  ability. 

"  I  await  your  majesty's  orders. 

"  Caron  de  Beaumarchais." 

Thus  was  verified,  at  the  expense  of  Beaumarchais,  the 
justness  of  Talleyrand's  maxim,  "  Above  all,  gentlemen,  no 
zeal."  By  putting  himself  to  the  most  outrageous  trouble  for 
a  trifle,  he  got  a  month's  imprisonment,  and  when  he  com- 
plained to  M.  de  Sartines,  the  latter  replied  to  him,  "What 
can  be  done?  the  empress  took  you  for  an  adventurer." 
There  is,  it  appears  to  me,  much  candor  in  the  conduct  of  the 
negotiator  who  can  not  be  made  to  understand  that  the  gold 
box  hanging  from  his  neck,  his  royal  letter,  his  feverish  ardor, 
his  undue  consumption  of  post-horses,  his  change  of  name,  his 
attempted  assassination,  and  his  robbers — all  on  account  of  a 
worthless  pamphlet — formed  a  sufficiently  heterogeneous  com- 
bination to  inspire  Maria-Theresa  with  some  distrust,  and  that 
what  in  his  own  opinion  should  have  rendered  him  interesting 
only  served  to  make  him  suspected  of  madness  or  knavery.  It 
appears,  however,  that,  to  console  him  for  the  thousand  ducats, 
which  went  so  much  to  his  heart,  a  diamond  was  sent  to  him 
in  exchange,  with  an  authorization  to»wear  it  from  the  em- 
press. 

One  word  now  on  the  payment  of  expenses  in  this  "import- 
ant affair."  Beaumarchais,  whose  principal  object  at  the  time 
was  to  induce  the  king  to  facilitate  his  rehabilitation  before 
the  Parliament,  gave  his  services  gratis ;  but  post-horses  cost 
a  great  deal  of  money,  and  since  the  month  of  March,  reckon- 
ing the  journeys  relating  to  the  affair  of  Morande,  the  expenses 
of  which  were  not  yet  paid,  he  had  traveled  1800  leagues,  go- 
ing and  returning,  in  the  king's  service.  The  total  of  the  ex- 
penses, including  the  purchase  of  the  Angelucci  libel,  and  the 
cost  of  living  in  different  towns,  mounted  up  to  2783  guineas 
— that  is  to  say,  more  than  72,000  francs  ;  so  that,  if  w^e  also 
reckon  the  100,000  francs  given  to  Morande,  172,000  francs 
were  spent,  and  the  activity  of  an  intelligent  man  was  em- 
ployed during  six  months,  and  all  this  to  procure  the  destruc- 
tion of  two  rhapsodies,  which  were  not  worth  seventy-two 


THE    CHEVAXEER  d'eON.  223 

deniers.     Singular  means  of  stopping  the  production  of  libels, 
and  singular  employment  of  the  public  wealth ! 

In  the  mean  while,  by  displaying  much  activity  in  matters 
of  little  importance,  Beaumarchais  gained  ground.  He  was  in 
continued  correspondence  with  ]\L  de  Sartines,  to  whom  he 
transmitted,  with  a  mixture  of  good  sense  and  jovial  familiarity, 
his  observations  and  views  on  all  the  political  incidents  of  the 
day ;  he  went  and  came  without  ceasing  from  Paris  to  Lon- 
don, in  order  to  look  after  the  libels,  and  already  followed  with 
as  much  attention  the  quarrel  of  the  English  colonies  of  Amer- 
ica with  the  mother  country.  He  was  soon  had  recourse  to 
in  another  aftair  of  a  still  more  extraordinary  kind  than  the 
two  former  ones.  Hitherto  we  have  only  seen  him  occupied 
in  tracing  out,  pursuing,  and  purchasing  the  silence  of  vulgar 
libelers ;  the  French  government  was  about  to  bring  him  into 
conflict  with  a  person  as  celebrated  as  himself,  as  keen,  almost 
as  witty,  and  whose  life  was  not  less  extraordinary. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

The  Chevalier  d'Eon. — Mademoiselle  (TEon  at  St.  Petersbnrgh. — M. 
d'Eon  at  London. — The  Chevalier  and  the  Queen  of  England. — The 
Chevalier's  little  Acconnt. — The  Chevalier  and  Beaumarchais. — The 
Chevalier  and  Gudin. — The  Chevalier  and  ]VL  de  Sartines. 

The  success  of  mystification  is  no  rare  thing  in  the  annals 
of  mankind ;  but,  of  all  the  mystifications  in  history,  one  of 
the  most  strange  and  most  ridiculous  i.s,  beyond  contradiction, 
that  which  was  connected  with  the  Chevalier  d'Eon,  who,  un- 
til the  age  of  forty-three,  was  looked  upon  ^ery  where  as  a 
man,  who,  in  his  capacity  of  man,  became  successively  an  ad- 
vocate in  the  Parliament  of  Paris,  censor  of  belles-lettres,  dip- 
lomatic agent,  Chevalier  of  Saint  Louis,  captain  of  dragoons, 
secretary  of  legation,  and  who  finally  filled  for  several  months 
the  functions  of  minister  plenipotentiary  from  the  court  of 
France  at  London.  After  a  violent  and  scandalous  quarrel 
with  the  embassador.  Count  de  Guerchy,  whose  post  he  occu- 
pied temporarily,  he  was  dismissed^  and  officially  recalled  bj 


224  BEAUMARCHAIS   AJTD    HIS   TIMES. 

Louis  XV.,  but  secretly  maintained  by  him  at  London,  with 
a  pension  of  12,000  livres.  Soon  afterVvard,  toward  1771, 
doubts,  springing  from  an  unknown  source,  engendered  in  an 
unknown  manner,  were  raised  about  the  sex  of  this  captain 
of  dragoons,  and,  in  the  English  style,  enormous  bets  were 
made  to  depend  on  the  question.  The  Chevalier  d'Eon,  who 
might  easily  have  settled  all  doubts  about  the  matter,  allowed 
them  to  increase  and  be  spread  abroad.  The  betting  fever 
grew  twice  as  strong,  and  the  opinion  that  the  chevalier  was 
a  woman  was  not  long  becoming  general.  A  short  time  aft- 
erward, in  1775,  Beaumarchais,  to  whom  he  had  declared  that 
be  was  a  woman,  was  sent  to  order  him,  in  the  name  of  the 
king,  Louis  XVI.,  to  make  his  declaration  public,  and  to  as- 
sume the  habit  of  his  sex.  He  signed  the  required  declara- 
tion, and,  after  hesitating  a  little  longer  as  to  the  change  of 
costume,  resigned  himself  to  it  at  last,  and  at  fifty  years  of  age 
quitted  his  dragoon's  uniform  for  a  petticoat  and  a  coiffe,  and 
in  1777  appeared  at  Versailles  in  this  attire,  which  he  wore 
until  his  death.  A  book  was  written  with  his  co-operation, 
under  the  title  of  "  Military,  Political,  and  Private  Life  of 
Mademoiselle  d'Eon,"  a  splendid  romance,  in  which  it  is  told 
how  his  parents  baptized  him  as  a  boy,  although  he  was  a  girl, 
in  order  to  presei-ve  an  estate  which  his  family  was  to  lose  in 
default  of  male  heirs.  Tlie  chevalier,  on  his  side,  wrote  and 
published  numerous  papers,  in  which  he  appeared  as  a  female 
knight,  and  congratulated  himself  on  having  been  able,  in  the 
midst  of  the  tumults  of  camps,  sieges,  and  battles,  *'  to  pre- 
serve," in  his  own  words,  "  that  flower  of  purity  intact,  pledge 
so  precious  and  so  fragile,  alas !  of  our  morals  and  our  faith." 
He  was  compared  to  Minerva  and  Joan  of  Arc ;  Dorat  ad- 
dressed complimentary  epistles  to  this  old  heroine,  the  glory 
of  her  sex.  "Writers  of  the  greatest  weight,  and  who  might  be 
considered  the  best  informed,  were  taken  in  like  all  the  others ; 
and  the  grave  author  of  the  "  History  of  French  Diplomacy," 
M.  de  Flassan,  published  the  following  passage  on  the  subject 
of  the  chevalier ; 

"It  can  not  be  denied,"  said  M.  de  Flassan, "that  she  (the  Chev- 
alier d'Eon)  presented  a  species  of  phenomenon.  Nature  was  de- 
ceived in  giving  her  a  sex  so  much  in  contradiction  with  her  baaghty 


THE    CHEVALIER   d'eON.  225 

and  decided  character.  Her  mama  for  playing  the  part  of  a  man, 
and  for  deceiving  all  observers,  rendered  her  sometimes  ill-tempered, 
and  she  treated  M.  de  Guerchy  with  an  impertinence  which  was  in- 
excusable toward  the  king's  minister.  For  the  rest,  she  deserved 
esteem  and  respect  for  the  constancy  with  which  she  concealed  her 
sex  from  so  much  piercing  scrutiny.  The  brilliant  part  which  this 
woman  played nn  missions  of  a  delicate  nature,  and  in  the  midst  of 
so  many  adverse  circumstances,  proves  in  particular  that  she  was 
more  fitted  for  politics  by  her  wit  and  information  than  many  men 
who  have  run  the  same  career."* 

M.  de  Flassan  wrote  the  lines  we  have  quoted  in  1809,  a 
year  before  the  death  of  the  Chevalier  d'Eon.  A  year  after- 
ward, 1810,  the  Chevalier  d'Eon  died  at  London,  and  on  the 
body  being  examined,  it  was  shown  and  established  in  the 
most  authentic  manner  that  this  pretended  chevaliere,  whom 
the  historian  of  "  French  Diplomacy"  reproaches  with  having 
a  "  mania  for  playing  the  part  of  a  man,  and  deceiving  all  ob- 
servers," that  this  pretended  chevaliere  was  a  perfectly  formed 
chevalier.f 

What  is  the  meaning  of  this  grotesque  mystification,  and 
how  is  its  success  to  be  explained?  What  motive  could  in- 
duce a  man  of  distinguished  rank,  a  man  of  wit,  an  intrepid 
officer,  a  secretary  of  legation,  a  Chevalier  of  Saint  Louis,  to 
make  himself  pass  for  a  woman  during  more  than  thirty  years  ? 
Was  the  part  forced  upon  him  ?  If  it  was  forced  upon  him, 
how  and  why  could  a  government  require  a  captain  of  dra- 
goons, forty-seven  years  of  age,  to  adopt  so  ridiculous  a  dis- 
guise? and  how  could  this  dragoon  of  forty-seven  years  of 
age,  who  shaved  every  morning  like  all  dragoons,t  who,  in 

*  "  Histoire  generale  et  raisonn^e  de  la  diplomatie  Fran9aise,"  vol. 
v.,  p.  454,  first  edition,  1809. 

t  This  clearly  results  from  the  following  certificate:  "I  certify  by 
the  present  that  I  have  examined  and  dissected  the  body  of  the  Chev- 
alier D'Eon,  in  presence  of  Mr.  Adair,  of  Mr.  Wilson,  and  Father  Ely- 
see  ;  and  that  I  found  the  male  organs  of  generation  perfectly  formed 
in  everj'  respect.  May  23,  1810.  Thos.  Copeland,  surgeon."  To  this 
testimony  are  adjoined  the  signatures  of  a  large  number' of  well-known 
persons,  who  place  the  sex  of  the  Chevalier  d'Eon  beyond  all  doubt. 

X  Although  D'Eon  had  but  little  beard,  it  is  certain  that  he  had  some ; 
the  shade  of  the  beard  can  be  recognized  in  a  portrait  executed  in  pas- 
tel, which  I  have  seen  of  him,  and  which  he  gave  to  Beaumarchais.  It 
is  true  that  his  face  possesses  a  certain  smoothness,  which,  joined  to  his 

K  2 


226  BEAUMAECHAIS    AND    HIS   TEVIES. 

Beaumarchais'  own  words,  "drank,  smoked,  and  swore  like 
a  German  postillion,"  deceive  so  many  persons,  beginning 
with  Beaumarchais  himself?  For  the  latter,  as  will  be  seen, 
always  believed  very  sincerely  that  the  dragoon  was  a  woman, 
and  in  love  with  him,  Beaumarchais !  How,  in  fine,  and  why, 
did  this  masquerade  problem  become  a  sort  of  question  of 
state,  give  rise  to  a  host  of  negotiations,  make  kings  and  min- 
isters act,  speak,  and  write,  make  couriers  travel,  and  cause, 
as  is  always  the  case,  a  great  deal  of  money  to  be  spent? 
These  different  questions,  which  prove  how  far  Montaigne  was 
right  when  he  said,  "  The  greater  part  of  our  vocations  are 
farcical,"  these  different  questions  are  far  from  being  made 
clear. 

The  most  accredited  version  of  the  Chevalier  d'Eon's  story 
is  the  following :  Having  in  his  youth  tlie  appearance  of  a 
woman,  he  had  been  sent  by  Louis  XV.  in  feminine  disguise 
to  the  court  of  St.  Petersburg.  He  had  got  introduced  to  the 
Empress  Elizabeth  in  the  capacity  of  lectrice,  and  had  con- 
tributed to  the  establishment  of  good  feeling  between  the  two 
courts.  Hence  would  have  resulted  some  doubts  as  to  his  sex. 
These  doubts,  after  disappearing  in  the  midst  of  an  entirely 
masculine  career,  had  been  revived  and  propagated  a  long  time 
afterward  by  Louis  XV.  himself,  after  the  scandal  occasioned 
by  the  quarrel  between  D'Eon  and  the  Count  de  Guerchy. 
Not  wishing  to  be  harsh  to  an  agent  whom  he  had  employed 
with  advantage  in  his  secret  service,  and  wishing,  on  the  other 
hand,  to  give  satisfaction  to  the  De  Guerchy  family,  to  pre- 
vent a  duel  between  the  embassador's  young  son,  who  had 
sworn  to  avenge  his  father,  and  D'Eon,  who  was  a  redoubted 
duelist ;  wishing,  in  fine,  to  put  a  stop  to  all  the  consequences 
of  this  quarrel,  the  king  had  been  led,  by  the  recollection  of 
D'Eon's  disguise  during  his  youth,  to  order  him  to  allow  the 
rumor  of  his  being  a  woman  to  gain  ground.  Louis  XVI., 
adopting  the  politics  of  his  predecessor,  forced  him  to  declare 
himself  a  woman  and  to  assume  a  woman's  clothes.  "  This 
strange  personage,"  says  IVIadame  Campan,  "had  long  been 
soliciting  to  be  allowed  to  return  to  France  ;  but  it  was  nec- 

equally  feminine  voice,  must  have  contributed  to  give  credibility  to  the 
fable  of  which  he  was  the  subject. 


M.  d'eox  at  loxdon.  227 

essary  to  find  some  means  of  sparing  to  the  family  he  had  of- 
fended the  kind  of  insult  which  it  would  discover  in  his  re- 
turn ;  he  was  made  to  take  the  costume  of  a  sex  to  which 
eveiy  thing  is  pardoned  in  France." 

Such  is  the  story  most  generally  admitted  on  the  subject 
of  the  Chevalier  d'Eon;  but  it  appears  quite  inconceivable. 
How  indeed  can  we  account  for  the  fact  of  a  king  wishing  to 
stifle  the  effects  of  a  quarrel,  and  being  unable  to  find  any 
means  more  simple  than  that  of  changing  one  of  the  adversa- 
ries into  a  woman ;  and  for  that  of  an  officer  of  forty-seven 
years  of  age  choosing  to  renounce  all  manly  careers,  and  wear 
petticoats  during  the  rest  of  his  life,  rather  than  simply  un- 
dertake to  decline  a  challenge  by  order  of  the  king — or  rather 
than  remain  in  disgrace  and  exile  while  preserving  his  liberty 
and  his  sex  ?  How,  in  fine,  can  we  account  for  the  fact  that 
if  the  Chevalier  d'Eon  is  only  the  resigned  victim  of  the 
wishes  of  Louis  XV.,  and  afterward  adopted  by  Louis  XVI., 
that  when  these  two  kings  were  dead,  when  the  French  mon- 
archy itself  had  ceased  to  exist,  when  D'Eon,  in  retirement 
at  London,  had  no  longer  any  interest  ^ither  of  money  or  posi- 
tion in  continuing  the  disguise  imposed  upon  him,  how  can 
we  account  for  the  fact  that  he  persisted  in  preserving  it  until 
his  death  ? 

All  this  is  very  singular  and  scarcely  comprehensible.  A 
new  theory  was  produced  some  twenty  years  since  about  the 
Chevalier  d'Eon.  The  views  on  which  it  is  founded  are  also 
most  strange,  and  we  even  experience  some  hesitation  in  re- 
produwng  them ;  however,  as  they  are  developed  in  a  work 
of  two  volumes,  which  are  declared  to  be  taken  from  authen- 
tic documents,*  we  are  obliged  to  say  a  few  words  on  the  sub- 
ject. The  author  of  this  work  affirms  that  if  the  famous 
Chevalier  d'Eon  consented  to  pass  for  a  woman,  it  was  not 
for  the  sake  of  the  Guerchy  family,  but  to  save  the  honor  of 
the  Queen  of  England,  Sophia  Charlotte,  wife  of  G-eorge  HI. 
He  pretends  that  D'Eon  having  been  surprised  by  the  king,  a 

*  This  work  is  entitled  "  Memoirs  of  the  Chevalier  d'Eon,"  publish- 
ed for  the  first  time  from  papers  furnished  by  his  family,  and  other  au- 
thentic documents  deposited  in  the  Archives  des  Aflfaires  Etrang^res,  by 
M.  Gaillardet,  author  of  the  "  Tour  de  Nesle." 


228  BEAUMARCHAIS   AND    HIS   TIMES. 

physician  who  was  a  friend  of  the  qneen's  and  of  D'Eon  had 
declared  to  the  king  that  D'Eon  was  a  woman.  George  III, 
had  asked  Louis  XV.  about  the  matter,  who,  for  the  sake  of 
his  royal  cousin's  peace  of  mind,  had  hastened  to  assure  him 
that  D'Eon  was  a  woman.  From  this  day  D'Eon  was  com- 
pelled to  change  his  sex,  with  the  consolation  of  having  given 
a  king  to  England ;  for  the  author  of  the  book  in  question 
does  not  hesitate  to  tell  us  that  he  is  convinced  this  pretended 
woman  was  the  father  of  George  IV. 

This  revelation  on  the  subject  of  a  queen  who  had  hitherto 
always  passed  for  a  very  virtuous  woman,  in  order  to  be  ad- 
missible, ought  to  be  supported  by  conclusive  proofs,  which  we 
look  for  in  vain  in  the  work  entitled  "  Memoirs  of  the  Chev- 
alier D'Eon."  With  the  exception  of  a  letter  from  the  Duke 
d'Aiguillon  to  the  chevalier,  which,  if  authentic,  might  give 
some  force  to  the  hypothesis  of  the  author,  although  it  does 
not  positively  point  out  the  queen,  Sophia  Charlotte ;  all  that 
the  book  says,  at  least  as  regards  the  principal  question,  may 
be  reduced  to  very  daring  assertions  and  very  arbitrary  induc- 
tions, accompanied  by  tales,  pictures,  and  dialogues  from  im- 
agination, which  give  the  work  the  character  of  a  novel,  and 
deprive  it  of  all  authority.*     We  have  no  intention  here  of 

*  If  we  wished  to  discuss  M.  Gaillardet's  hypothesis,  objections  to  it 
would  not  be  wanting.  How,  for  instance,  can  we  account  for  the  fact 
that  D'Eon,  determined  to  save  the  Queen  of  England's  honor  by  giv- 
ing out  that  he  was  a  woman,  encouraged  by  his  silence  the  bets  which 
were  made  as  to  his  sex,  and  allowed  them  to  go  on  increasing  during 
four  years,  from  1771,  the  date  of  the  scene  related  by  the  author  of 
the  "  Memoirs,"  until  1775,  when  D'Eon  signed  the  declaration  dic- 
tated to  him  by  Beaumarchais  ?  How  can  we  account  for  the  fact  that, 
during  these  four  years,  King  George  HI.,  who,  in  the  hypothesis  in 
question,  would  have  the  greatest  interest  in  throwing  light  upon  the 
matter,  did  not  employ  any  of  those  means  for  doing  so  which  even  a 
constitutional  monarch  could  easily  find  in  such  a  case  ?  In  fine,  if 
this  hypothesis  can  be  made  to  explain  D'Eon's  persistence  in  retaining 
his  woman's  clothes  until  his  death,  it  renders  quite  inexplicable  the 
fact  that  the  queen  made  no  attempt  to  prevent  the  discovery  after  the 
chevalier's  decease.  This  discov^y,  according  to  M.  Gaillardet,  occa- 
sioned the  king's  third  and  last  attack  of  insanity.  Nothing,  however, 
would  have  been  more  easy  than  to  avoid  this  misfortune,  for  D'Eon 
died  in  a  state  approaching  indigence  ;  and  since,  according  to  the  sup- 
position of  Gaillardet,  he  was  sufficiently  devoted  to  the  queen  to  sac- 


M.  d'eon  at  londoji.  229 

offering  any  theory  of  our  own  about  the  Chevalier  d'Eon. 
As  this  singular  personage  only  figures  in  an  accessory  man- 
ner in  Beaumarchais'  life,  it  will  be  sufficient  to  take  the  sit- 
uation at  the  moment  when  their  relations  began. 

We  are  in  May,  1775,  the  Chevalier  d'Eon  is  in  London, 
where  he  has  been  in  disgrace  and  exile  since  his  quarrel  with 
Count  de  Guerchy,  although  he  has  continued,  nevertheless, 
even  after  Louis  XV.'s  death,  to  draw  the  secret  pension  of 
12,000  francs  which  that  king  granted  him  in  1776.  The 
doubts  raised  about  his  sex  appear  to  date  from  1771.  The 
English  bets  on  the  subject  had  been  going  on  since  that  time, 
and  D'Eon,  by  his  silence,  kept  up  the  uncertainty  of  the  bet- 
ters. In  any  case,  it  was  not  the  question  of  his  sex  which  in- 
terested the  French  government  at  this  epoch  ;  it  was  another 
and  a  graver  question.  As  secret  agent  of  Louis  XV.,  D'Eon 
had,  during  many  years,  a  mysterious  correspondence  with 
the  king  and  the  few  persons  charged  with  the  direction  of  his 
secret  diplomacy,  which,  as  is  known,  he  had  organized  with- 
out the  knowledge  of  his  ministers.  D'Eon  exaggerated  as 
much  as  possible  the  importance  of  these  papers,  which  re- 
lated to  the  peace  concluded  between  France  and  England  in 
1763.  He  circulated  among  his  acquaintances  that  if  they 
were  printed  they  would  rekindle  the  war  between  the  two 
nations,  and  that  the  English  opposition  had  offered  him  enor- 
mous sums  to  publish  them ;  he  was,  he  said,  too  good  a 
Frenchman  to  consent  to  it ;  but,  in  the  mean  while,  he  was 
in  want  of  money,  a  great  deal  of  money,  because  he  had  a 
great  many  debts,  and  if  the  cabinet  of  Versailles  wished  to 
regain  possession  of  the  papers,  it  must  pay  the  debts  of  the 
present  possessor.  It  was  not,  moreover,  a  present  D'Eon 
asked  for;  the  French  government  was  his  debtor.  Indeed, 
it  owed  him  more  money  than  D'Eon  owed  himself  The 
chevalier  sent,  in  1774,  to  M.  de  Ver^ennes,  Minister  of  For- 

rifice  his  life  to  her  during  thirty  years,  she  might  certainly,  with  very 
little  money,  have  determined  him  to  go  and  die  in  a  distant  land,  in- 
stead of  remaining  exposed  at  London  to  the  examination  of  the  sur- 
geons. There  would  be  many  more  ohsenations  to  make  in  reference 
to  M.  Gaillardet's  hypothesis  ;  the  date  of  George  FV.'s  birth,  taken  in 
connection  with  the  date  of  D'Eon's  visit  to  England,  does  not  at  all 
accord  with  this  hypothesis,  which  appears  to  us  completely  chimerical. 


230  BEAUMARCHAIS    AKD    HIS   TIMES. 

eign  Affairs,  a  bill  of  the  most  amusing  description,  from  which 
I  only  extract  the  following  article,  to  give  an  idea  of  the  in- 
trepidity with  which  this  dragoon  charged  the  public  treasury. 

"  In  November,  1757,"  writes  D'Eon, "  the  present  King  of  Poland 
being  Envoy  Extraordinary  of  the  Republic  in  Russia,  sent  to  M. 
D'Eon,  Secretary  of  the  French  Legation,  a  note,  inclosing  a  dia- 
mond estimated  at  6000  livres,  in  the  hope  that  M.  D'Eon  would  in- 
form him  of  a  very  interesting  affair  which  was  then  being  conduct- 
ed at  St.  Petersburg ;  the  latter  made  it  his  duty  to  show  the  note 
and  the  diamond  to  the  Marquis  de  I'Hopital,  embassador,  and  to  take 
back  the  said  diamond  to  the  Count  de  Poniatowski.  M.  de  I'Hdpi- 
tal,  touched  by  the  honorable  action  of  M.  D'Eon,  wrote  about  it  to 
the  Cardinal  de  Bernis,  who  promised  to  procure  him  a  grant  of  like 
value  from  the  king  for  his  fidelity ;  but,  the  Cardinal  de  Bernis  hav- 
ing been  displaced  and  exiled,  M.  D'Eon  never  received  this  grant, 
which  he  thinks  he  is  entitled  to  claim 6000  livres." 

Is  not  this  a  good  story  of  a  diamond,  refused  in  1757,  and 
which  is  claimed  as  a  debt  in  an  account  of  1774?  Let  us 
look  at  another  item. 

"  The  Count  de  Guerchy,"  says  D'Eon,  prevented  the  King  of 
England  from  making  to  M.  D'Eon  the  present  of  a  thousand  gold 
pieces,  which  he  grants  to  the  ministers  plenipotentiary  residing  at 
his  court 24,000  livres." 

Again : 

"  Not  having  been  in  a  position,  from  1763  to  1773,  to  attend  to  his 
vines  in  Burgundy,  M.  D'Eon  has  not  only  lost  a  thousand  crowns 
income  per  annum,  but  also  all  his  vines,  and  considers  he  may  put 
this  loss  down  at  half  its  real  amount 15,000  livres, 

"  Moreover,  M.  D'Eon,  without  entering  into  an  account  which  he 
might  produce  of  the  immense  expenses  occasioned  by  his  residence 
in  London  from  1763  until  the  present  year  1773,  both  for  the  main- 
tenance and  support  of  his  late  cousin  and  himself,  and  for  the  extra- 
ordinary outlays  occasioned  by  circumstances,  thinks  he  ought  to 
confine  himself  to  claiming  the  cost  at  London  of  a  simple,  decent 
establishment,  in  which  a  person  limits  himself  to  mere  necessaries 
and  servants,  which  he  consequently  estimates  at  the  moderate  sum 
of  450  louis,  or  10,000  Uvres  tournois  per  %nnum,  making  for  the  said 
ten  years 100,000  livres." 

It  is  to  be  remarked  that,  since  1766,  D'Eon  had  received 
an  annual  pension  of  12,000  livres.  The  valet  of  Regnard's 
*'  Joueur"  presents  a  list  of  claims  which  is  certainly  not  equal 


THE    CHEVALIER    AXD    BEAUMAKCHAIS.  231 

to  the  above.  All  the  remainder  is  in  the  same  style,  and  the 
total  of  the  ingenious  chevalier's  claims  is  thus  raised  to  the 
moderate  sum  of  318,477  livres  16  sous.  D'Eon  requested  in 
addition  that  his  pension  of  12,000  francs  might  be  converted 
into  a  deed  of  annuity  for  the  same  amount.  Two  negotiators 
had  been  sent  to  him  successively,  to  obtain  the  return  of 
these  papers  on  less  exorbitant  conditions  ;  one  of  them,  M.  de 
Pommereux,  captain  of  grenadiers,  and,  as  such,  gifted  with 
rare  intrepidity,  had  gone  so  far  as  to  propose  to  this  captain 
of  dragoons,  who  passed  for  a  woman,  to  marry  him.  D'Eon, 
not  wishing  to  give  up  any  of  his  claims,  had  been  determined 
to  let  the  negotiation  drop,  when  in  May,  1775,  the  chevalier, 
learning  that  Beaumarchais  was  in  London  on  other  business, 
asked  to  see  him.  "  We  met,"  said  D'Eon,  "  owing,  no  doubt, 
to  a  natural  curiosity  on  the  part  of  extraordinary  animals 
to  see  one  another."  The  chevalier  solicited  Beaumarchais' 
support ;  and,  by  way  of  giving  him  a  proof  of  his  confidence, 
confessed  to  him  with  tears  that  he  was  a  woman,  and  what 
is  strange  is,  that  Beaumarchais  did  not  doubt  it  for  an  in- 
stant. Delighted  to  oblige  a  girl  so  interesting  from  her  war- 
like courage,  her  diplomatic  talents,  and  her  misfortunes,  and 
to  bring  a  difficult  negotiation  to  an  end,  he  addressed  to  Louis 
XVI.  the  most  touching  letters  in  favor  of  D'Eon.  "  When 
it  is  thought,"  he  writes  to  the  king,  "  that  this  creature,  so 
much  persecuted,  is  of  a  sex  to  which  every  thing  is  forgives, 
the  heart  becomes  moved  with  pity."  "  I  venture  to  assure 
you,"  he  Avrites  elsewhere,  "that,  by  treating  this  astonishing 
creature  with  skill  and  kindness,  although  soured  by  twelve 
years  of  misfortunes,  she  can  easily  be  brought  under  subjec- 
tion, and  made  to  give  back  all  the  papers  relating  to  the  late 
king  on  reasonable  terms."  It  will  be  asked  how  Beaumar- 
chais, who  certainly  was  not  wanting  in  experience  in  these 
sort  of  matters,  could  imagine  he  saw  a  girl  instead  of  a  dra- 
goon of  the  most  masculine  description.  One  thing  is  certain, 
that  in  all  Beaumarchais'  papers  there  is  not  a  single  line 
which  does  not  prove  that  he  was  indeed  completely  deceived 
as  to  the  sex  of  the  chevalier ;  and  if  it  could  be  supposed  that 
in  this  comedy  the  author  of  "  The  Barber  of  Seville"  was 
playing  a  part,  and  pretending  to  take  a  man  for  a  woman,  we 


232  BEAUMARCHAIS    AND    HIS   TIMES. 

should  be  prevented  from  entertaining  this  idea  by  the  candor 
with  which  his  intimate  friend  Gudin,  who  accompanied  him 
in  the  visit  during  which  the  negotiation  with  D'Eon  was  ef- 
fected, relates,  in  his  unpublished  memoirs  concerning  Beau- 
marchais,  the  misfortunes  of  this  interesting  woman.  "  It  was 
at  the  house  of  Wilkes,*  at  dinner,  that  I  met  D'Eon  for  the 
first  time.  Struck  by  the  cross  of  Saint  Louis,  I  asked  Miss 
Wilkes  who  this  chevalier  was ;  '  he  has,'  I  said,  '  a  woman's 
voice,  and  from  that,  apparently,  have  arisen  all  the  stories 
which  have  been  told  about  him.'  I  knew  no  more  about  him 
at  the  time ;  I  was  still  ignorant  of  his  relations  with  Beau- 
marchais.  I  soon  ascertained  them  for  myself.  She  confess- 
ed to  me  with  tears  (it  appears  that  this  was  D'Eon's  style) 
that  she  was  a  woman,  and  showed  me  her  legs,  which  were 
covered  with  scars  from  wounds  she  had  received  when,  after 
being  thrown  from  her  horse,  which  had  been  kiUed  under  her, 
a  squadron  passed  over  her  body,  and  left  her  almost  dead  on 
the  plain." 

No  one  could  have  been  mystified  with  more  naivete  than 
Gudin.  During  the  first  period  of  the  negotiation,  D'Eon  paid 
the  most  delicate  attention  to  Beaumarchais :  he  called  him 
his  "guardian  angel,"  he  sent  him  his  "complete  works"  in 
fourteen  volumes,  which  he  recommended  to  his  indulgence, 
for  this  strangfe  being,  dragoon,  woman,  and  diplomatist,  was 
at  the  same  time  a  scribbler  of  the  most  prolific  kind.  He  char- 
acterizes himself  very  well  in  a  letter  to  the  Duke  de  Praslin. 

"  If  you  wish  to  know  me,  M.  le  Due,  I  will  tell  you  frankly  that 
I  am  only  good  for  thinking,  imagining,  questioning,  reflecting,  com- 
paring, reading,  writing,  for  traveling  from  the  east  to  the  west,  from 
the  south  to  the  north,  and  for  fighting-jon  the  plain  or  in  the  mount- 
ains. If  I  had  lived  in  the  time  of  Alexander  or  Don  Quixote,  I 
should  have  been  Parmenio  or  Sancho  Panza.  If  you  put  me  to  any 
thing  else,  I  should,  without  committing  any  absurdity,  consume  all 
the  revenue  of  France  in  a  year,  after  which  I  would  give  you  an  ex- 
cellent treatise  on  economy.  If  you  wish  for  a  proof,  look  at  all  I 
have  written  in  my  history  of  the  finances  on  the  distribution  of  the 
public  wealth." 

Under  the  effect  of  the  pretended  chevaliere' s  cajolery,  Beau- 

*  Wilkes  was  at  this  time  Lord-mayor  of  London. 


THE   CUEVAXIER   AND    M.   DE    SARTINES.  233 

marchais  returned  to  Versailles,  pleaded  her  cause  with 
warmth,  exhausted  himself  in  proving  that  the  papers  she  had 
in  her  hands,  and  with  which  he  was  not  acquainted,  were  of 
the  greatest  importance,  asked  permission  to  renew  the  nego- 
tiations which  had  been  broken  off  with  her,  and  obtained  it 
in  the  following  letter  from  M.  de  Vergennes,  which  is  im- 
portant as  not  being  in  accordance  with  the  version  generally 
adopted  of  the  \-iews  entertained  by  the  French  government 
in  regard  to  the  Chevalier  d'Eon.  The  following  is  M.  de 
Vergennes'  unpublished  letter  to  Beaumarchais,  of  which  I 
have  only  suppressed  some  insignificant  passages : 

"  I  have  beneath  my  eyes,  sir,  the  report  you  have  made  to  M .  de 
Sartines  of  your  conversation  respecting  M.  D'Eon ;  it  is  of  the  great- 
est exactitude.  I  have,  in  consequence,  taken  the  king's  orders  :  his 
majesty  authorizes  you  to  agree  to  all  reasonable  security  which  M. 
D'Eon  may  demand  for  the  regular  payment  of  his  pension  of  12,000 
livres,  it  being  well  understood  that  he  is  not  to  derive  this  annuity 
from  any  investment  out  of  France  ;  the  capital  which  would  have  to 
be  employed  for  producing  it  is  not  in  my  power,  and  I  should  meet 
with  the  greatest  obstacles  in  procuring  it ;  but  it  is  easy  to  convert 
the  said  pension  into  a  life  annuity,  to  which  he  could  hold  the  title. 

"  The  question  of  the  payment  of  debts  will  occasion  more  diffi- 
culty. M.  D'Eon's  claims  are  rather  high  on  this  point ;  he  must  re- 
duce them,  and  considerably,  for  us  to  make  an  arrangement.  As 
you  must  not  seem,  sir,  to  have  my  mission  concerning  him,  you  will 
have  the  advantage  of  making  him  speak  first,  and,  consequently,  will 
have  a  superiority  over  him.  M.  D'Eon  has  a  violent  temper,  but  I 
think  he  has  an  honest  heart,  and  I  do  him  sufficient  justice  to  be 
convinced  that  he  is  incapable  of  treachery. 

"  It  is  impossible  M.  D'Eon  should  take  leave  of  the  King  of  En- 
gland; the  revelation  of  his  sex  can  no  longer  be  permitted ;  it 
tcould  be  ridiculous  for  both  courts.  The  testimonial  he  wishes  to 
have  substituted  suggests  some  difficulties ;  however,  it  can  be  grant- 
ed provided  he  be  contented  with  the  praise  which  his  zeal,  his  i  ;- 
telligence,  and  his  fidelity  deserve  ;  but  we  can  not  praise  either  liis 
moderation  or  his  subordination ;  and  in  any  case,  there  must  be  no 
question  of  the  scenes  he  had  with  M.  de  Guerchy. 

'■  You  are  enlightened  and  prudent ;  you  know  what  men  are,  and 
1  am  not  uneasy  about  your  arriving  at  a  good  result  with  M.  D'Eon, 
if  it  is  possible  to  do  so.     If  the  enterprise  fails  in  your  hands,*  it 

*  That  is  to  sav,  the  enterprise,  the  object  of  which  was  to  obtain  the 
return  of  the  secret  correspondence  of  D'Eon  with  Louis  XV. 


234  BE1.CMAECHAIS   AND  HIS   TIMES. 

must  be  taken  for  granted  that  it  can  never  succeed,  and  we  must 
make  up  our  minds  for  whatever  may  be  the  result.  The  first  sen- 
sation might  be  disagreeable  for  us,  but  the  consequences  wou^d  be 
frightful  for  M.  D'Eon.  A  y;ery  humiliating  part  is  that  of  an  exile 
who  bears  the  varnish  of  treason  :  contempt  is  his  lot. 

"  I  am  very  sensible,  sir,  of  the  praise  you  have  kindly  awarded  to 
me  in  your  letter  to  M.  de  Sartines.  I  aspire  to  deserve  it,  and  re- 
ceive it  as  a  pledge  of  your  esteem,  which  will  be  always  flattering 
to  me.  Rely,  I  beg  you,  upon  mine,  and  upon  all  the  sentiments  with 
which  I  have  the  honor  to  be  your  very  humble  and  very  obedient 
servant,  De  Vergennes. 

"  Versailles,  June  21,  1775." 

This  letter  from  M.  de  Vergennes,  which  did  much  honor 
to  Beaumarchais,  proves  that  at  that  time  no  one  thought  of 
making  D'Eon  assume  a  woman's  dress ;  but  it  proves  at  the 
same  time  that  his  feminine  dress  was  considered  even  then 
a&  an  established  fact.  The  only  condition  required  for  allow- 
ing his  return  to  France  was  the  return  of  his  correspondence 
with  Louis  XV.  It  is  not  until  two  months  afterward,  in  a 
letter  to  Beaumarchais,  dated  August  26,  1775,  that  M.  de 
Vergennes  explains  himself  on  the  subject  of  the  woman's  cos- 
tume in  the  following  terms : 

"  Whatever  desire  I  may  have  to  see,  to  know,  and  to  hear  M. 
D'Eon,  I  will  not  conceal  from  you,  sir,  one  source  of  uneasiness  by 
which  I  am  besieged.  His  enemies  are  on  the  watch,  and  will  not 
easily  forgive  all  he  has  said  of  them.  If  he  comes  here,  however 
well-behaved  and  circumspect  he  may  be,  they  may  attribute  remarks 
to  him  contrary  to  the  silence  imposed  upon  him  by  the  king  ;  denials 
and  justifications  are  always  embarrassing  and  odious  to  honorable 
minds.  If  M.  VEon  would  disguise  himself,  all  would  be  arranged; 
it  is  a  proposition  which  he  alone  can  make ;  but,  for  the  sake  of  his 
own  tranquillity,  he  should  avoid,  at  all  events  for  some  years,  living 
in  France,  and  necessarily  in  Paris.  You  may  make  what  use  you 
think  fit  of  this  observation." 

The  phrase  we  have  just  italicized  in  the  minister's  second 
letter  seems  to  be  in  contradiction  with  the  one  we  have 
italicized  in  the  first.  Did  M.  de  Vergennes  mean  that  D'Eon 
was  a  man,  and  that  he  was  to  dress  himself  up  like  a  woman  ? 
If  so,  how  are  we  to  make  this  accord  with  what  he  wrote 
two  months  previously  about  the  "  revelation"  of  D'Eon's 
sex?     Moreover,  and  without  saying  any  thing  about  the 


M.    GAILLAKDEX'S    THEORY.  235 

strangeness  of  a  minister  and  a  man  of  serious  disposition 
bringing  forward  an  idea  of  this  kind  as  quite  a  simple  thing, 
if  M.  de  Yergennes'  phrase  had  the  meaning  which  it  at  first 
sight  appears  to  have,  this  phrase,  addressed  to  Beaumarchais, 
would  render  the  letters  of  the  latter  completely  unintelligible, 
for  he  is  perpetually  speaking  of  the  Chevalier  d' Eon's  femi- 
nine sex.  Let  us  add,  finally,  that  this  phrase,  taken  literally, 
would  also  destroy  M.  Gaillardet's  theory,  who,  to  explain 
Beaumarchais'  error,  pretends  that  D'Eon  and  the  minister 
made  an  agreement  that  the  agents  commissioned  to  negotiate 
between  them  should  be  themselves  misled  as  to  the  cheva- 
lier's true  sex.  These  considerations  led  us  to  think  that  M. 
de  Vergennes  believed,  like  Beaumarchais,  that  D'Eon  was  a 
woman,  that  the  word  "  disguise"  was  an  improper  expression 
which  escaped  the  minister,  who  only  meant  to  say,  "Although 
M.  D'Eon  has  always  passed  for  a  man,  since  he  is  at  present 
recognized  as  a  woman,  he  ought  to  dress  like  one."  The 
form  of  the  letter  seems  to  indicate,  also,  that  it  was  written 
to  support  the  initiative  taken  by  Beaumarchais  with  regard 
to  the  question  of  woman's  attire.  It  was  Beaumarchais,  in 
fact,  who  insisted  particularly  on  this  point. 

"All  this,"  he  writes  to  the  minister  in  a  letter  dated  October  7, 
1775,  "  has  given  me  an  opportunity  of  knowing  still  better  the 
creature  with  whom  I  have  to  deal,  and  I  still  keep  to  what  I  said  to 
you  before,  that  the  feeling  of  resentment  against  the  late  ministers 
(those  who  had  dismissed  him  in  1766)  and  their  friends  of  the  last 
thirty  years  is  so  strong  in  htm*  that  it  would  be  impossible  to  place 
too  insurmountable  a  barrier  between  the  contending  parties.  Writ- 
ten promises  of  good  behavior  are  not  sufficient  to  stop  a  head  which 
always  becomes  inflamed  at  the  mere  name  of  Guerchy ;  his  positive 
avowal  of  his  sex,  and  an  engagement  to  appear  for  the  remainder 
of  his  life  in  woman's  clothes,  are  the  only  safeguards  against  scan- 
dal and  misfortune.  I  have  required  this  authoritatively,  and  have 
obtained  it." 

Here,  for  the  rest,  is  another  autograph  letter  from  M.  de 
Vergennes  to  Beaumarchais,  of  a  later  date  than  the  two  I 
have  already  quoted,  having  been  -v^Titten  February  10,  1776, 
and  in  which  the  minister,  while  he  first  speaks  of  D'Eon, 

*  The  word  "him"  proves  nothing  against  Beaumarchais'  error.  It 
is  only  the  result  of  his  being  accustomed  to  look  upon  D'Eon  as  a  man. 


236  BEAUMAECHAIS  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

through  habit,  as  a  man,  seems  to  be  thoroughly  persuaded 
that  the  chevalier  is  a  woman. 

"  Versailles,  Februaiy  10,  17TG. 
"  I  must  not  let  you  remain  ignorant,  sir,  that  a  very  exact  copy  is 
being  circulated  in  Paris  of  the  "  safe-conduct"  which  you  had  to 
give  M.  D'Eon  in  case  he  should  return  to  France,  and  which  could 
be  of  no  use  to  him  if  he  renounced  returning  to  his  country,  or  if  he 
returned  to  it  in  the  costume  of  his  real  sex.  You  can  understand 
that  this  document  causes  great  scandal  among  those  who  imagine 
there  can  be  no  reason  for  awarding  praise  to  a  person  who  had  been 
in  a  certain  way  proscribed,  and  it  is  very  difficult  to  enter  into  an 
explanation  with  all  the  tatlers  and  all  the  censors. 

"  What  interest  do  you  think  your  Amazon  can  have  had  in  pub- 
lishing a  document  which  evidently  ought  not  to  have  left  her  hands 
either  by  a  copy  or  as  an  extract  ?  I  will  not  suppose  that  you  neg- 
lected to  impress  this  upon  your  Amazon.  I  am  much  afraid  she  is 
the  dupe  of  some  interested  persons,  who,  by  their  advice,  have 
wished  to  put  her  forward  in  order  to  give  body  to  some  new  in- 
trigue. It  would  be  useless  to  attempt  to  impede  her  in  what  she 
pleases  to  do ;  but  if  she  does  not  wish  to  return,  as  I  presume  to  be 
the  case,  try,  sir,  if  with  dexterity  you  can  not  gain  the  original  of  a 
safe-conduct  which  can  be  of  no  advantage  to  her  if  she  does  not 
mean  to  make  use  of  it,  and  which  can  not  even  sers-e  her  any  longer, 
since  she  has  promised  not  to  re-enter  the  kingdom  except  in  woman's 
clothes.  Do  not  doubt  the  sincerity  of  the  sentiments  with  which, 
sir,  I  am  your  very  humble  and  very  obedient  servant, 

"  De  Veegennes."* 

Beaumarchais  and  M.  de  Vergennes  appear  to  me,  then,  to 
have  been  equally  deceived  by  D'Eon  on  the  question  of  sex ; 
but  Beaumarchais  got  the  better  of  him  on  the  question  of 
money.  The  chevalier,  it  is  remembered,  asked  the  trifle  of 
318,477  livres  for  returning  the  celebrated  correspondence. 
Beaumarchais,  while  rejecting  these  absurd  claims,  mentions 
no  figures  himself;  and  in  the  transaction  of  the  5  th  October, 
1775,  by  virtue  of  which  D'Eon  declares  himself  a  woman, 
and  engages  to  return  all  the  papers  of  Louis  XV.,  the  agent 

*  Let  us  quote  in  support  of  our  opinion  another  unpublished  letter, 
addressed  by  M.  de  Vergennes  to  the  charge  d'affaires  at  London, 
dated  March  23,  1776:  "I  should  be  very  pleased  if  M.  de  Beaumar- 
chais could  conclude  with  the  Amazon  cCEon,  not  that  I  ttish/or  her 
here,  about  which  I  care  very  little,  but  in  order  to  be  no  longer  obliged 
to  pay  attention  to  an  adventure  which  does  not  amuse  me  nearly  so 
much  as  the  pit." 


THE  "secret  papers."  237 

of  M.  de  Vergennes  binds  himself  to  deliver  to  him  a  deed  se- 
curing him  12,000  livres  of  annuity,  in  addition  to  larger  sums, 
of  which  the  amount  would  be  remitted  to  him,  for  the  payment 
of  his  debts  in  England.  Each  of  the  two  contracting  parties 
had  a  loop-hole  to  escape  by.  If  the  larger  sums  did  not 
appear  sufficiently  large  to  the  chevalier,  he  intended  to  keep 
a  portion  of  the  papers  in  order  to  obtain  larger  sums  still ;  as 
Beaumai'chais,  on  the  other  hand,  did  not  intend  to  pay  all 
the  debts  it  might  please  D'Eon  to  declare,  he  had  obtained 
from  the  king  the  power  of  "  battling,"  to  employ  his  expres- 
sion, with  Mademoiselle  d'Eonfrom  100  up  to  150,000  francs, 
reserving  to  himself  the  right  of  paying  the  money  by  install- 
ments, and  increasing  or  diminishing  the  sum  according  to  the 
confidence  this  cunning  personage  might  inspire  him  with. 

D'Eon  commenced  by  exhibiting  an  iron  chest,  well  pad- 
locked, which  was  deposited  with  an  English  admiral,  his 
friend  Lord  Ferrers,  as  security,  he  said,  for  a  debt  of  £5000 
sterling.  He  declared  that  this  chest  contained  all  the  secret 
correspondence.  Here  was  a  difficulty  for  Beaumarchais ;  he 
was  not  authorized  to  look  at  these  papers ;  but  if  he  gave  the 
money  without  doing  so,  he  might,  he  says,  receive  in  exchange 
nothing  but  washing-bills.  After  a  fresh  journey  to  Paris  to 
obtain  permission  to  make  an  inventory  of  the  papers,  he  at 
last  received  the  authorization,  and  on  the  chest  being  opened, 
it  was  found  that  Lord  Ferrers,  the  real  or  pretended  creditor, 
had  only  received,  as  security,  papers  of  scarcely  any  import- 
ance. D'Eon  confessed  then,  with  blushes,  that  the  most  im- 
portant papers  had  remained  concealed  beneath  the  floor  of 
his  bed-room.  "  She  conducted  me  to  her  house,"  writes  Beau- 
marchais, "  and  drew  from  beneath  the  flooring  five  card-board 
boxes,  well  sealed,  and  labeled  'secret  papers,  to  be  remitted 
to  the  king  alone,'  which  she  assured  me  contained  the  whole 
of  the  correspondence,  and  the  entire  mass  of  the  papers  which 
she  had  in  her  possession.  I  commenced  by  making  an  in- 
ventory, and  marking  them  all,  so  that  none  of  them  might  be 
taken  away ;  but,  to  make  more  sure  that  the  entire  mass  was 
there,  I  ran  through  them  rapidly  while  she  was  writing  the 
inventory." 

It  is  seen  that  Beaumarchais  was  a  man  of  precaution ;  then 


238  BEAUMARCHAIS    AND    HIS    TIMES. 

only  did  he  pay  Lord  Ferrers'  claim,  who  remitted  to  him  in 
exchange  an  equal  sum  in  bills  accepted  by  the  Chevalier 
d'Eon,  after  which  he  prepared  to  start  for  Versailles  with  his 
chest.  The  chevalier  naturally  considered  the  lai-ger  sums  not 
sufficiently  large ;  but  as  the  transaction  of  October  5  not  only 
stipulated  for  the  return  of  the  papers,  but  also  bound  D'Eon 
to  wear  woman's  clothes,  and  to  remain  silent  concerning  all 
his  old  disputes  with  the  Guerchy  family,  Beaumarchais  took 
a  high  hand  with  him  : 

"  I  assured  this  young  lady,"  he  writes  to  M.  de  Vergennes,  "  that  if 
she  was  good,  modest,  silent,  and  behaved  herself  well,  I  would  give 
a  good  account  of  her  to  the  king's  minister,  even  to  his  majesty  him- 
self, and  that  I  hoped  to  obtain  some  still  further  advantages  for  her. 
I  made  this  promise  the  more  willingly  from  the  fact  that  I  had  still 
about  41,000  livres  of  Tours  in  my  hands,  out  of  which  I  meant  to 
reward  each  act  of  submission  and  good  behavior,  as  if  doing  so 
through  the  special  generosity  of  the  king  or  yourself,  M.  le  Comte, 
and  only  as  gratuities,  not  as  payments.  It  was  by  means  of  this 
secret  proceeding  that  I  still  hoped  to  govern  and  rule  this  impetu- 
ous and  cunning  creature." 

When  he  arrived  at  Versailles  with  his  chest,  Beaumarchais 
was  complimented  by  M.  de  Vergennes,  who  sent  him  a  mag- 
nificent certificate,  declaring  that  his  majesty  had  been  much 
satisfied  with  the  zeal  he  had  shown  in  this  matter,  and  the 
intelligence  and  skill  with  which  he  had  accomplished  the  com- 
mission his  majesty  had  intrusted  to  him.  The  negotiator 
was  beginning  to  attract  the  attention  of  Louis  XVI.  The 
preceding  missions  had  left  him  in  the  shade ;  this  one  Avas  put- 
ting him  in  a  prominent  position.  He  was  not  a  man  to  re- 
main there,  and  to  neglect  his  point.  Before  starting  again  for 
London,  he  addressed  to  Louis  XVL  a  series  of  questions,  beg- 
ging the  king  to  be  kind  enough  to  answer  them  in  the  mar- 
gin, and  the  king,  with  his  own  hand,  replied  obediently  to 
Beaumarchais'  questions.  The  autograph  is  interesting ;  the 
body  of  the  document  is  written  in  Beaumarchais'  hand,  and 
signed  by  him  ;  the  answers  to  each  question  are  traced  in  the 
margin,  in  a  writing  which  is  rather  elegant,  but  unequal,  weak, 
and  irresolute,  the  t's  and  v's  being  scarcely  indicated.  It  is 
the  characteristic  writing  of  the  good,  weak,  unhappy  sov- 


THE  king's  repues.  239 

erei"Ti  who  was  destined  seventeen  years  afterward  to  be  swal- 
lowed up  by  the  Revolution ;  and,  in  order  that  the  secret 
agent  might  glory  at  his  ease  in  having  been  in  direct  cor- 
respondence with  Louis  XVI.,  the  answers  of  the  monarch  are 
followed  by  the  annexed  attestation,  written  and  signed  in  the 
hand  of  M.  de  Vergennes  :  All  the  answers  to  the  questions  are  in 
the  king's  hand."  In  order  to  appreciate  this  document  as  a 
sign  of  the  discordance  of  all  things  during  this  period  of 
French  history,  it  must  not  be  forgotten  that  at  the  period  at 
which  it  was  prepared,  Beaumarchais  was  suifering  from  the 
effect  of  a  legal  condemnation  whichtdeclared  him  to  have  lost 
all  rights  of  citizenship,  and  it  is  in  this  position  that  he  com- 
mences in  writing  the  following  dialogue  with  Louis  XVI. : 

"  Essential  points  which  I  beg  M.  le  Comte  de  Vergennes  to  pre- 
sent for  the  king's  decision  before  my  departure  for  London,  this  13th 
Dec,  1775  ;  to  be  replied  to  in  the  margin : 

"  Does  the  king  grant  to  Mademoiselle  d'Eon  permission  to  wear 
the  cross  of  St.  Louis  on  her  woman's  clothes  ? 

"Answer  of  the  king.  In  the  provinces  only. 

"  Does  his  majesty  approve  of  the  gratuity  of  2000  crowns  which 
I  have  given  to  this  young  lady  on  her  assuming  woman's  clothes? 

"Answer  of  the  king.  Yes. 

"  Does  his  majesty  in  this  case  leave  hef  man's  clothes  at  her  en- 
tire disposition  ? 

"Answer  of  the  king.  She  must  sell  them. 

"As  these  favors  are  to  be  dependent  upon  a  certain  frame  of  mind 
into  which  I  wish  to  bring  Mademoiselle  d'Eon  forever,  will  his  maj- 
esty leave  me  the  power  of  granting  or  refusing,  according  as  I  may 
think  useful  for  the  good  of  his  service  ? 

"  Answer  of  the  king.  Yes. 

"  As  the  king  can  not  refuse  to  give  me,  through  his  Minister  of 
Foreign  Affairs,  an  acknowledgment  in  good  form  of  all  the  papers  I 
have  brought  back  to  him  from  England,  I  have  begged  the  Count 
de  Vergennes  to  entreat  his  majesty  to  be  kind  enough  to  add  at  the 
bottom  of  this  acknowledgment,  in  his  own  hand,  a  few  words  of  sat- 
isfaction as  to  the  manner  in  which  I  fulfilled  my  mission.  This  re- 
ward, the  dearest  to  my  heart,  may  also  one  day  be  of  the  greatest 
utility  to  me  ;  if  some  powerful  enemy  ever  pretended  to  ask  me  for 
an  account  of  my  conduct  in  this  affair,  with  one  hand  I  would  show 
the  order  of  the  king,  with  the  other  I  would  present  my  master's  at- 
testation that  I  have  fulfilled  his  orders  to  his  satisfaction.  All  the 
intermediate  operations  will  then  become  a  deep  ditch,  which  each 


240  BEAUMARCHAIS   AND   HIS  TIMES. 

one  will  fill  up  according  to  his  pleasure,  without  being  obliged  to 
speak,  or  ever  troubling  myself  about  what  may  be  said  on  the  subject. 
"Ji7i5ii'er  of  the  hng.  Good." 

Here  the  subject  of  the  dialogue  changes.  As  long  as  it  is 
only  necessary  to  decide  whether  D'Eon  is  to  wear  the  cross 
of  St.  Louis  on  his  woman's  clothes,  and  to  sell  his  man's 
clothes,  Louis  XVI.  gives  very  clear  and  very  precise  answers ; 
but  Beaumarchais  wishes  to  lead  him  farther,  and  we  shall 
see  that  in  some  months  he  will  succeed.  For  the  moment, 
he  is  too  much  pressed  and  too  pressing.  He  passes  without 
transition  from  the  D'Eon  affair  to  the  American  affair,  and 
seeks  to  gain  by  assault  the  king's  adhesion  to  plans  with 
which  he  has  been  pursuing  him  for  some  time.  Louis  XVI. 
maintains  reserve,  and  the  tone  of  his  answers  changes.  The 
meaning  of  what  follows  will  be  clearly  explained  when  we 
come  to  treat  of  Beaumarchais'  influence  in  the  American 
question ;  but,  as  all  this  written  dialogue  is  contained  in  the 
same  letter,  we  have  thought  it  desirable  not  to  mutilate  it,  for 
fear  of  depriving  it  of  its  true  aspect.  We  accordingly  con- 
tinue to  quote  it. 

"  As  the  first  person  I  shall  see  in  England  wiU  be  my  Lord  Roch- 
ford,  and  as  I  have  no  doubt  that  this  lord  will  ask  me  secretly  what 
answer  the  King  of  France  gives  to  the  prayer  the  King  of  England 
addressed  to  him  through  me,  what  shall  I  reply  to  him  on  the  part 
of  the  king  ? 

"  Answer  of  the  king.  That  you  received  none. 

"  If  this  lord,  who  has  certainly  preserved  much  of  his  intimacy 
with  the  King  of  England,  wishes  secretly  to  induce  me  to  see  this 
monarch,  shall  I  consent  or  not?  This  question  is  not  an  idle  one, 
and  deserves  to  be  well  weighed  before  giving  me  my  orders. 

"  Answer  of  the  king.  That  may  be. 

"  It  having  been  the  design  of  this  minister  to  admit  me  into  the 
secrets  of  a  policy  especially  his  own,  if  he  wished  now  to  connect 
me  with  other  ministers,  or  if,  in  whatever  manner  it  might  happen, 
the  opportunity  should  be  offered  to  me,  shall  I  accept  or  not  ? 

"  Answer  of  the  king.  It  is  useless. 

"  In  the  case  of  the  affirmative  I  can  not  do  without  a  cipher.  Will 
the  Count  de  Vergennes  give  me  one  ? 

"  No  answer. 

"  I  have  the  honor  to  inform  the  king  that  the  Count  de  Guines* 

*  The  French  embassador  at  London. 


THE  king's  replies.  241 

has  endeaTored  to  render  me  an  object  of  suspicion  to  the  English 
ministers.  Shall  I  be  permitted  to  say  a  few  words  to  him  on  the 
subject,  or  does  his  majesty  wish  that,  while  continuing  to  serve  him, 
I  should  appear  ignorant  of  all  the  dark  means  which  have  been  em- 
ployed for  injuring  me  personally,  my  operations,  and  consequently 
the  good  of  his  service  ? 

"  Answer  of  the  king.  He  (the  embassador)  must  remain  in  igno- 
rance.'" 

The  king  meant  that  SI.  de  Guines  was  not  to  be  informed 
of  what  Beaumarchais  was  doing  in  London  in  reference  to 
the  position  of  the  insurgent  colonies.  What  follows  is  the 
gravest  part  of  the  letter ;  and,  accordingly,  the  king  makes 
no  reply  to  it. 

"  Finally,  I  request,  before  starting,  a  positive  answer  to  my  last 
note  ;*  but  if  ever  a  question  was  important,  it  must  be  admitted  that 
it  is  this  one.  I  answer  with  my  head,  after  mature  reflection,  for 
the  most  glorious  success  of  this  operation,  during  the  entire  reign 
of  my  master,  without  either  his  own  person,  that  of  his  ministers,  or 
his  interests  being  ever  in  any  way  injured  thereby.  Will  any  one 
of  those  who  dissuade  his  majesty  from  it  dare  to  answer  in  his  turn 
also  with  his  head  to  the  king  for  all  the  evil  which  must  infallibly 
come  to  France  from  their  causing  it  to  be  rejected?  In  case  we 
should  be  sufficiently  unfortunate  for  the  king  to  refuse  steadily  to 
adopt  so  simple  and  wise  a  plan,  I  entreat  his  majesty,  at  least,  to  be 
permitted  to  take  down  the  date,  in  his  presence,  of  the  period  at 
which  I  oflfered  him  this  admirable  resource,  so  that  he  may  one  day 
render  justice  to  the  correctness  of  my  views,  when  all  that  will  re- 
main will  be  to  regret  bitterly  not  having  followed  them. 

"Caron  de  Beaumarchais." 

This  singular  dialogue  between  Louis  XVI.  and  Beaumar- 
chais  seems  to  represent  very  well  the  prudent  disposition  of 
the  one  and  the  active  disposition  of  the  other.  The  temerity 
of  the  secret  agent  will  soon  finish  by  gaining  the  victory  over 
the  prudence  of  the  king,  and  Beaumarchais,  who  has  only 
put  forward  the  trifling  questions  about  D'Eon  in  order  to 
reach  the  great  ones  about  America,  is  obliged  to  start  again 
for  London,  having  only  ascertained  that  D'Eon  is  to  sell  his 
man's  clothes.     He  found  the  chevalier,  who  to  him  is  always 

*  The  object  of  this  note,  of  which  we  shall  speak  again,  was  to  de- 
termine the  king  to  send  secretly,  through  Beaumarchais,  assistance  in 
arms  and  ammunition  to  the  American  colonies. 

L 


242  BEAUMAKCHAIS    AND    HIS   TI3IES. 

a  chevaliere,  somewhat  unfaithful  to  the  promises  of  modesty 
and  silence  which  he  had  made  in  the  transaction  of  the  5th 
October.  Under  the  pretext  of  stopping  the  bets  made  about 
his  sex,  he  called  attention  to  himself  in  the  English  journals 
with  that  vain  display  which  was  habitual  to  him,  and  as  his 
announcements  were  composed  so  as  still  to  leave  in  mystery 
a  point  which  should  have  been  considered  as  settled,  they 
were  more  fitted  to  tempt  the  bettors  than  to  discourage  them. 
Beaumarchais  reproached  him  rather  hastily;  the  chevalier, 
more  hasty  still  than  Beaumarchais,  seeing,  moreover,  that  his 
austere  friend  kept  the  king's  purse-strings  tightly  drawn,  be- 
came quite  angry-  Hence  a  rupture,  and  an  interchange  of 
letters,  in  which  D'Eon,  after  offering  Beaumarchais  the  most 
masculine  insults,  endeavored  to  take  advantage  of  his  fatuity 
by  suddenly  reassuming  the  tone  of  a  young  lady,  and  com- 
plaining amorously  of  the  ingratitude  of  this  perfidious  man. 

"  I  confess,  sir,"  writes  this  dragoon  in  woman's  clothes,  "  I  con- 
fess that  a  woman  may  sometimes  find  herself  in  such  unfortunate 
situations  that  circumstances  may  obhge  her  to  profit  by  services  of 
which  she  is  the  first  to  see  the  absurdity,  because  she  penetrates  the 
motive.*  Tlie  greater  the  skill  and  dehcacy  of  the  man  who  wishes 
to  oblige  her,  the  greater  the  danger  for  her ;  but  what  souvenirs  do 
these  reflections  recall  to  me !  They  recall  to  me  that,  by  a  blind 
confidence  in  you  and  your  promise,  I  discovered  to  you  the  mystery 
of  my  sex ;  that  through  gratitude  I  gave  you  my  portrait,  and  that 
through  esteem  you  promised  me  yours. 

"  There  have  been  many  other  engagements  between  us ;  all  that 
you  have  advanced  beyond  that,  as  to  our  approaching  marriage,  ac- 
cording to  what  I  hear  from  Paris,  can  only  be  regarded  by  me  as 

*  The  most  striking  thing  in  D'Eon's  letters,  written  to  Beaumar- 
chais, of  which  I  only  quote  some  fragments,  is,  that  while  sustaining 
as  well  as  possible  before  him  this  part  of  a  woman,  concealed  under 
the  appearance  of  a  man,  he  often  gives  to  his  phrases  an  enigmatic 
turn,  by  which  he  would  seem  to  have  wished  to  establish  clearly,  for 
the  period  when  his  fraud  would  be  discovered,  that  he  was  duping  a 
man  as  cunning  as  the  author  of  "The  Barber  of  Seville ;"  and  that  he 
was  duping  him,  and  at  the  same  time  laughing  in  his  face,  without  the 
latter  perceiving  it.  Beaumarchais,  on  his  side,  was  amusing  himself 
at  the  expense  of  this  amorous  old  she-drarjoon,  and  was  becoming  the 
more  confirmed  in  his  error  in  proportion  to  the  skillful  manner  in 
which  D'Eon  simulated  the  anger  of  an  offended  old  maid. 


d'eon's  opinion  of  beaumarchais.  243 

mere  persifflage  on  your  part.  If  you  have  made  a  serious  matter 
of  a  simple  pledge  of  friendship  and  gratitude,  your  conduct  is  pitia- 
ble. That  woidd  be  a  true  piece  of  contempt,  and  a  breach  of  faith, 
which  a  woman  of  Paris,  however  much  she  might  be  broken  in  to 
fashionable  morals,  could  not  pardon,  still  less  a  woman  whose  vir- 
tue is  as  uncivilized  as  mine,  and  whose  disposition  is  so  haughty 
when  the  good  faith  and  sensibility  of  her  heart  are  wounded.  Why 
did  I  not  remember  that  men  are  only  on  the  earth  to  deceive  the. 
credulity  of  girls  and  women  ?....!  only  thought,  too,  that  I  was 
rendering  justice  to  your  merit,  admiring  your  talents,  your  generos- 
ity. I  loved  you,  doubtless,  even  then  ;  but  the  situation  was  so  new 
to  me  that  I  was  very  far  from  thinking  love  could  arise  in  the  midst 
of  trouble  and  grief." 

Beaumarchais  replied  to  D'Eon  in  the  grave  tone  of  a  man 
who  has  a  duty  to  fulfill,  and  means  to  remain  insensible  to 
the  reproaches  and  insinuations  of  an  angry  old  maid ;  and  as 
he  suspects  less  than  ever  that  he  is  being  mystified,  he  writes 
to  M.  de  Vergennes : 

"  Every  one  tells  me  that  this  mad  woman  is  mad  about  me.  She 
thinks  I  have  treated  her  \dt\\  contempt,  and  women  never  pardon 
such  an  offense.  I  am  far  from  despising  her ;  but  who  the  devil 
would  ever  have  imagined  that,  to  serve  the  king  properly  in  this  af- 
fair, it  would  have  been  necessary  for  me  to  become  the  gallant 
knight  of  a  captain  of  dragoons  1  This  adventure  appears  to  me  so 
absurd,  that  I  have  all  the  trouble  in  the  world  to  regain  my  serious- 
ness so  as  to  finish  this  note  properly." 

It  is  certain  that  if  M.  de  Vergennes  had  been  in  the  secret 
of  the  chevalier's  true  sex,  which  we  do  not  think  he  was,  he 
must  have  had  a  good  laugh  in  his  turn,  but  at  the  expense 
of  Beaumarchais.  In  any  case,  as  D'Eon  was  not  reasonable 
and  modest  according  to  the  terms  of  the  agreement,  and  did 
not  assume  woman's  clothes  and  return  to  France,  Beaumar- 
chais gave  him  no  more  money.  D'Eon  wrote  the  most  vio- 
lent and  abusive  things  against  him  to  M.  de  Vergennes.  This 
"  guardian  angel"  of  the  first  period  of  the  correspondence  is 
only  a  "  conceited  fool ;"  he  has  "  the  insolence  of  a  watch- 
maker's apprentice  who  has  by  accident  discovered  perpetual 
movement:"  he  can  only  be  compared  to  ^'■Olivier  Ledaim, 
barber,  not  of  Seville,  but  of  Louis  XL" 

Beaumarchais  received  these  broadsides  of  insult  with  the 
calm  of  a  perfect  gentleman.     '•  She  is  a  woman,"  he  replied 


244  BEAUMA.RCHAIS    AND    HIS   TIMES. 

to  M.  de  Vergennes,  "  and  in  such  a  frightful  situation  that  I  " 
pardon  her  with  all  my  heart.  She  is  a  woman ;  this  ex- 
plains every  thing."  D'Eon,  finding  that  he  was  considered 
to  have  been  sufficiently  remunerated,  pretended  to  have  fur- 
ther papers  to  publish.  Beaumarchais  was  at  first  somewhat 
alarmed  about  it,  but  was  soon  reassured.  It  was  only  a 
boast  of  the  chevalier's ;  he  had  nothing  more :  he  had  given 
things  for  120,000  livres,*  for  which  he  had  at  first  wanted 
318,000;  and  Beaumarchais  kept  him  in  a  certain  state  of 
awe,  for  he  retains  in  his  hands  the  bills  bearing  his  accept- 
ance to  Lord  Ferrers,  and  as  D'Eon' s  pension  had  been  con- 
verted into  a  deed  of  annuity,  he  could,  if  necessary,  have  it 
seized,  provided  this  pretended  young  lady  persisted  in  not 
executing  the  terms  of  the  treaty.  For  the  rest,  knowing  the 
vain  disposition  of  the  individual,  he  recommended  M.  de  Ver- 
gennes, if  he  wished  to  secure  his  return  to  France,  to  appear 
not  to  think  of  it.  Afraid  of  being  forgotten,  the  chevalier  ar- 
rived at  Versailles  of  his  own  accord  one  fine  morning  in  Au- 
gust, 1777  ;  but  he  no  longer  remembered  that  he  had  to 
dress  as  a  woman :  he  was  ordered  to  assume  that  costume ; 
he  obeyed,  and  for  some  time  excited  much  curiosity  and  in- 
terest ;  when  this  curiosity  had  fallen  off,  he  started  back  to 
London,  and  as  he  had  no  further  connection  with  Beaumar- 
chais, we  have  nothing  more  to  do  with  him. 

In  taking  leave  of  the  strange  affair  of  the  Chevalier  d'Eon, 
we  shall  be  tempted  to  conclude  like  Voltaire,  who  wrote  the 
following  lines  in  reference  to  the  subject  in  1777 :  "  The 
whole  of  this  adventure  confounds  me ;  I  can  conceive  neither 
D'Eon,  nor  the  ministry  of  his  time,  nor  the  actions  of  Louis 
XV.,  nor  those  of  the  present  day ;  I  understand  nothing  in 
this  world."  There  is,  indeed,  something  incomprehensible 
about  a  world  in  which  such  masquerades  can  be  made  im- 
portant questions.     We  will,  however,  say,  looking  at  the 

*  In  paying  the  real  or  supposed  claim  of  Lord  Ferrers,  Beaumar- 
chais, who  had  been  authorized  to  make  the  best  terms  he  could  in  pay- 
ing, had  induced  D'Eon  to  allow  a  discount  to  the  king,  which  reduced 
the  sum  given  to  109,000  li\Tes.  He  had  afterward  remitted  to  D'Eon 
small  sums,  which  made  the  total  of  the  money  given  amount  to  £4902, 
Throughout  this  affair  Beaumarchais  appears  more  economical  with  the 
king's  money  than  in  the  two  preceding  ones. 


d'eon's  motives.  245 

enigma  as  it  existed  under  Louis  XVT.,  what  seems  to  us  most 
probable,  according  to  the  documents  beneath  our  eyes.  Con- 
trary to  the  most  general  opinion,  it  appears  to  us  very  prob- 
able that  Louis  XVI.  and  M.  de  Vergennes,  in  forcing  D'Eon 
to  wear  woman's  clothes,  thought  him  really  a  woman.  The 
serious  disposition  of  the  king  and  of  the  minister  scarcely  al- 
lows us  to  suppose  that  they  could  have  thus  lent  themselves 
to  so  ridiculous  and  unbecoming  a  comedy,  in  which  Beau- 
marchais  alone  played  the  part  of  dupe.*  But  as  this  pre- 
tended revelation  furnished  a  sufficiently  convenient  means  of 
stifling  all  the  consequences  of  the  former  quarrels  of  the  chev- 
alier with  the  Guerchy  family  and  their  friends,  they  both 
hastened  to  adopt  it  as  a  settled  thing,  without  caring  much 
to  verify  its  truth.  As  for  D'Eon,  it  is  evident  that  from  the 
day  when,  I  do  not  know  by  what  cause,  the  doubts  which 
the  disguise  of  his  youth  had  given  rise  to  appeared  again  in 
his  more  mature  age,  he  first  of  all  repelled  them,  then  en- 
couraged them,  and  cori'oborated  them  the  more  successfully 
by  appearing  to  let  the  secret  of.  his  being,  as  he  pretended,  a 
woman,  be  extorted  from  him  with  much  trouble.  Without 
attending  to  the  completely  romantic  hypothesis  of  M.  Gail- 
lardet,t  D'Eon  appears  to  us  to  have  been  induced  to  play 
this  comedy  by  two  motives,  not  very  lofty  in  themselves: 
first  of  all,  the  hope  of  obtaining  from  the  French  government 
more  money  as  an  interesting  amazon;  next,  and  above  all, 
vanity,  a  want  to  get  spoken  of  at  any  price,  which  is  the 
most  marked  trait  in  his  character.  In  an  unpublished  letter 
of  his  to  a  friend,  we  read  the  following  lines :  "  I  am  a  lamb 

*  Independently  of  the  letters  already  quoted,  several  other  letters  of 
M.  de  Vergennes  confirm  me  in  this  opinion.  As  for  Beaumarchais, 
the  mystification  which  D'Eon  subjects  him  to  is  seen  in  all  his  corre- 
spondence. 

t  An  antiquary  of  Tonnerre,  D'Eon's  native  place,  M.  le  Maistre, 
who  is  at  present  preparing  a  serious  work  on  the  chevalier  with  the 
same  documents  which  were  made  use  of  by  Gaillardet,  writes  to  tell  us 
that  we  were  not  wrong  in  mistrusting  the  pretended  discovery  of  the 
latter  in  reference  to  D'Eon's  relations  with  the  Queen  of  England,  and 
that  all  this  story  is  a  pure  romance.  As  far  as  Beaumarchais  is  con- 
cerned, we  could,  for  our  part,  easily  point  out  nomerous  inacctu^cies 
in  M.  Gaillardet's  work. 


246  BEAUMARCHAIS   AND   HIS  TIMES. 

whom  Guerchy  has  driven  mad  by  trying  to  precipitate  into  the 
river  of  oblivion.''^  This  phrase  depicts  D'Eon  admirably.  In 
an  ordinary  position  he  would  have  lived  unperceived,  above 
all,  since  his  scandalous  quarrel  with  the  Count  de  Guerchy 
had  shut  him  out  from  every  official  career.*  Passing  for  a 
woman,  or  for  a  being  apart,  whose  sex  was  a  mystery,  he  was 
sure  to  attract  general  attention.  This  stratagem  was  suc- 
cessful, since  it  gained  for  him  a  celebrity  which  is  not  always 
attained  by  lofty  natures  and  noble  actions,  t  After  his  re- 
turn to  France,  D'Eon  circulated  a  report  that  Beaumarchais 
had  retained  for  his  own  use  a  portion  of  the  money  destined 
for  himself.  The  latter  complained  of  it  to  M.  de  Vergennes, 
who  replied  to  him  in  the  following  letter,  which  he  author- 
ized him  to  publish  ; 

"  Versailles,  January  10,  1778. 
"  I  have  received,  sir,  your  letter  of  the  third  of  this  month,  and 
could  only  read  with  much  surprise  that  you  heard  that  Mademoiselle 
D'Eon  accused  you  of  having  appropriated,  to  her  prejudice,  money 
which  she  supposed  was  destined  for  her.  I  can  hardly  think,  sir, 
that  this  young  lady  could  have  made  so  calumnious  an  accusation ; 
but,  if  she  made  it,  you  must  not  be  at  all  uneasy  and  affected  by 
it.  You  have  the  pledge  and  proof  of  your  innocence  in  the  account 
you  rendered  of  your  conduct  in  the  most  approved  form,  based  upon 
authentic  documents,  and  in  the  recognition  of  your  services  which  I 
gave  you  with  the  knowledge  of  the  king.  Far  from  your  disinter- 
ested conduct  being  open  to  suspicion,  I  do  not  forget,  sir,  that  you 
have  made  no  claim  for  your  personal  expenses,  and  that  I  never  saw 
you  exhibit  any  other  design  than  that  of  facilitating  Mademoiselle 
D'Eon's  return  to  her  country. 

*  It  is  known  that  in  1765,  D'Eon,  then  Secretary  of  Legation  at 
London,  had  gone  so  far  as  to  accuse  his  embassador  publicly,  before 
the  English  courts,  of  having  attempted  to  poison  and  assassinate  him. 

t  The  same  motive  of  vanity  can  explain  his  persist^ce,  until  death, 
in  this  disguise,  after  he  had  once  adopted  it.  A  distinguished  man, 
who  knew  him  in  London  during  the  latter  period,  has  furnished  me 
with  another  explanation.  According  to  him,  D'Eon,  after  having  first 
of  all  found  the  female  costume  very  inconvenient,  had  at  last,  howev- 
er, accustomed  himself  to  it,  and  wore  it  by  inclination,  always,  howev- 
er, mixing  with  it  something  of  the  masculine  dress.  The  same  per- 
son who  kindly  gave  me  this  information  assures  me  that,  if  in  1809 
people  in  France  still  believed  in  D'Eon's  being  of  the  feminine  sex,  in 
England  none  of  those  persons  who,  at  this  period,  associated  with  the 
chevalier  doubted  his  being  a  man. 


THE    GOVEKNilENT   COMMISSIONER.  247 

"  I  am  very  perfectly,  sir,  your  very  humble  and  very  obedient 
servant,  De  Vergennes." 

Beaumarchais,  indeed,  had  not  on  this  occasion  even  claim- 
ed his  traveling  expenses ;  indeed,  he  could  afford  to  be  gen- 
erous toward  the  government,  for  the  government  was  still 
more  so  toward  him.  He  had  at  last  reached  his  end.  By 
continually  rendering  trifling  services  in  trifling  affairs,  he  had 
attained  a  sufficient  hold  on  the  confidence  of  Louis  XVI.,  of 
M.  de  Maurepas,  and  of  M.  de  Vergennes,  to  overcome  scru- 
ples and  hesitations  as  to  their  policy  in  the  American  ques- 
tion. Under  the  influence  of  his  ardent  solicitations,  the  gov- 
ernment had  decided  to  give  their  secret  support  to  the  insur- 
gent colonies,  and  to  intrust  the  important  and  delicate  mis- 
sion to  him.  On  the  10th  of  June,  1776,  Beaumarchais  had 
obtaiued  from  the  king  a  million  francs,  with  which  he  set  up 
and  commenced  that  great  American  transaction,  in  which  he 
will  be  seen  to  display  a  talent  for  organization  and  extension 
of  views,  a  power  of  will,  which  the  reader  will  be  astonished, 
perhaps,  to  find  in  the  author  of  "  The  Barber  of  Seville."  In 
the  mean  while,  it  must  also  be  remembered,  in  order  to  form 
a  just  opinion  of  the  epoch,  that  at  this  same  date  of  June  10th, 
1776,  when  Beaumarchais  was  receiving  from  the  government 
such  a  proof  of  confidence,  and  was  becoming  the  agent  and 
depositary  of  a  state  secret,  the  discovery  of  which  might  one 
day  kindle  war  between  France  and  England,  he  was  still  un- 
der the  effect  of  the  judgment  passed  upon  him  by  the  Mau- 
peou  Parliament.  The  person  whom  the  government  com- 
missioned to  carry  succor  to  the  Americans,  and  who  was  soon 
to  make  war  on  his  own  account  against  the  English,  was  in 
a  certain  way  civilly  dead.  These  contradictory  positions 
could  not,  however,  continue ;  before  fitting  out  his  ships,  the 
convict  of  the  Maupeou  Parliament  had  to  set  about  regain- 
ing his  rights  of  citizenship. 


248  BEAUMAKCHAIS   AND   HIS   TDIES. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

Eestitution  of  Civil  Rights. — The  Barber  of  Seville. — Final  Victory- 
over  the  Count  de  la  Blache. 

TnoKorGHLY  understanding  his  epoch,  Beaumarchais  had 
felt  that  the  principal  tiling  for  him  to  do  was  not  to  insist  on 
the  justice  of  his  cause,  but,  in  the  first  instance,  to  make  him- 
self useful,  and  then  necessary,  after  which  his  rehabilitation 
would  accomplish  itself  While  he  was  wearing  out  post- 
horses  in  the  service  of  the  king,  he  had  for  the  first  time  the 
satisfaction  of  hearing  that  the  Maupeou  Parli-ament,  which 
had  struck  him  so  cruel  a  blow,  had  died  in  its  turn  of  the 
wounds  it  had  received  from  him. 

Public  opinion  and  the  governing  powers  were  now  both  on 
his  side,  and  on  the  6th  of  September,  1776,  a  solemn  decree 
of  the  entire  Parliament,  Grand  Chamber,  and  Tournelle  as- 
sembled, annulled  the  judgment  passed  against  Beaumarchais 
by  the  Maupeou  Parliame_nt,  restored  him  to  his  civil  rights 
and  the  functions  he  had  previously  occupied.  This  decree 
was  received  with  the  most  lively  enthusiasm  by  the  mob  who 
encumbered  the  court,  and  the  happy  suitor  was  borne  in  tri- 
umph, in  the  midst  of  applause,  from  the  grand  chamber  to 
his  carriage.  He  had  prepared  a  discourse ;  he  was  prevailed 
upon  to  renounce  his  intention ;  but,  as  he  was  anxious  to  set 
himself  right  with  public  opinion,  he  published  it  the  follow- 
ing day. 

With  "The  Barber  of  Seville,"  Beaumarchais  entered,  as 
dramatic  author,  upon  the  path  of  great  successes,  and  at  the 
same  time  of  great  tribulations.  His  first  comedy,  before  it 
could  be  produced  on  the  stage,  met  with  almost  as  many  ob- 
stacles as  the  second,  and  underwent  divers  transformations, 
of  which  some  account  must  be  given. 

Played  for  the  first  time  in  February,  1775,  "Tlie  Barber" 
had  been  composed  in  1772  ;  it  was  at  first  a  comic  opera,  in 
the  style  of  the  period,  which  the  author  destined  for  the  Ital- 
ian comedians,  as  they  were  called,  who  then  possessed  the 


"the  BAKBER   of   SEVILLE."  249 

privilege  of  playing  works  of  this  kind.  The  conaplete  failure 
of  his  second  drama,  "  The  Two  Friends,"  and  the  taste  he 
always  had  for  couplets,  drove  Beaumarchais  from  one  ex- 
treme to  the  other,  from  the  sentimental  style  to  comic  pieces 
with  songs.  The  originality  of  "  The  Barber  of  Seville"  in 
its  first  form  consisted  principally  in  the  fact  that  the  author 
of  the  words  was  at  the  same  time  the  composer,  or  at  least 
the  arranger  of  the  music.  It  will  be  remembered  that  in  his 
letters  from  Madrid,  while  expressing  a  marked  disdain  for 
the  Spanish  Theatre  in  general,  Beaumarchais  entertained  a 
very  lively  enthusiasm  for  the  Spanish  music,  and,  above  all, 
for  the  interludes  sung  under  the  name  oftonadillas  or  sayrietes. 
The  recollection  of  the  tonadillas  appears  to  have  given  rise  to 
"  The  Barber  of  Seville."  It  was  first  written  in  order  to  in- 
troduce some  Spanish  airs  which  the  author  had  brought  from 
Madrid,  and  was  arranging  in  the  French  style.  "I  com- 
pose," he  writes  at  this  epoch,  "  airs  to  my  words  and  words 
to  my  airs."  Whether  Beaumarchais'  Spanish  airs  did  not 
seduce  the  ears  of  the  actors  of  the  Comedie  Italienne,  or 
whether  they  considered  the  work  had  too  much  resemblance 
to  Sedaine's  opera,  "  On  ne  s'avise  jamais  de  tout,"  which  was 
played  on  the  same  stage  in  1761,  it  is  quite  certain  that 
"  The  Barber  of  Seville,"  as  a  comic  opera,  was  refused  point 
blank  by  the  Italian  actors  in  1772.  Gudin,  in  his  unpub- 
lished Memoirs,  attributes  this  refusal  to  the  principal  actor, 
Clairval,  who  had  commenced  life  as  a  barber,  and  who,  after 
representing  Figaro  in  the  shops  of  Paris,  had  an  invincible 
antipathy  for  every  part  which  reminded  him  of  his  original 
profession.  Beaumarchais  was  obliged,  then,  to  give  up  all 
idea  of  having  his  comic  opera  performed.  I  could  only  find 
some  shreds  of  it  among  his  papers,  which  lead  me  to  think 
that  it  was  no  great  loss,  as  the  author's  poetic  talent  was 
very  unequal,  and  rarely  produced  two  good  couplets  in  suc- 
cession, while  his  musical  talent  did  not  rise  above  that  of  an 
amateur.  It  was  reserved  for  two  great  masters,  Mozart  and 
Rossini,  to  add  the  charm  of  music  to  the  inspirations  of 
Beaumarchais.  As  for  himself,  after  being  rejected  as  a  li- 
brettist and  arranger  of  Spanish  music,  he  determined  to  trans- 
form his  opera  into  a  comedy  for  the  Theatre  Francjais. 

L2 


250  BEAUMARCHAIS   AND   HIS   TIMES. 

Accepted  by  this  theatre,  after  receiving  the  approbation 
of  the  censor  Marin,  "The  Barber  of  Seville"  was  going  to 
be  played  in  February,  1773,  when  the  quarrel  of  the  author 
with  the  Duke  de  Chaulnes,  which  we  have  already  naiTated, 
took  place.  Beaumarchais  was  sent  to  For-l'Eveque,  where 
he  remained  two  months  and  a  half,  and  the  representation 
of  his  piece  was  necessarily  adjourned.  He  was  preparing  to 
produce  it  a  second  time  after  leaving  his  prison,  when  the 
criminal  accusation  was  instituted  by  Councilor  Goezman 
against  him,  and  the  "Barber  of  Seville"  was  adjourned 
again.  Meanwhile,  the  immense  success  of  the  Memorials 
against  Goezman  having  made  the  suitor  very  popular,  the 
French  comedians  wished  to  profit  by  that  circumstance. 
They  solicited  permission  to  play  "  The  Barber,"  and  ob- 
tained it;  the  representation  was  announced  for  the  12th  of 
February,  1774.  "All  the  boxes,"  says  Grimm,  "were  let 
up  to  the  fifth  representation."  Just  then,  on  Thursday,  Feb- 
ruary the  10th,  an  order  jfrom  high  authority  appeared  to 
cover  over  the  bills  and  stop  the  representation.  That  same 
day,  February  the  10th,  Beaumarchais  published  the  last  and 
-most  brilliant  of  his  judicial /ac^wnw.  As  the  report  had  been 
spread  that  his  piece  was  full  of  allusions  to  his  lawsuit,  he 
added  to  the  end  of  his  last  Memorial  a  note,  in  which,  after 
announcing  to  the  public  that  "The  Barber  of  Seville"  had 
been  prohibited,  he  disclaimed  all  the  allusions  attributed  to 
him,  and  terminated  thus : 

"  I  beg  the  court  to  be  kind  enough  to  order  the  manuscript  of  my 
piece,  as  it  was  deposited  with  the  police  more  than  a  year  since,  and 
as  it  was  going  to  be  played,  to  be  laid  before  it,  subjecting  myself 
to  all  the  rigor  of  the  law  if  in  the  composition  or  style  of  the  work 
any  thing  be  found  having  the  smallest  reference  to  the  unhappy  law- 
suit which  M.  Goezman  has  brought  against  me,  or  which  is  contrary 
to  the  profound  respect  I  profess  for  the  Parliament. 

"  Caron  oe  Beaumarchais." 

The  fact  is,  that  at  this  epoch  the  comedy  of  "  The  Barber," 
which  had  been  composed  before  the  Goezman  lawsuit,  con- 
tained no  allusion  whatever  to  it.  Although  in  its  original 
form  it  was  simply  characterized  by  gayety,  and  had  nothing 
of  an  absolutely  satirical  nature,  it  bore  the  punishment  of 


THE    FIKST   REPRESENT ATIOX.  251 

the  reputation  which  was  given  to  it  beforehand,  and  Beau- 
mareliais  could  not  obtain  permission  to  have  it  played.  Soon  ^ 
afterward,  the  different  missions  of  which  we  have  spoken 
took  him  to  England  and  Germany,  and  he  had  to  throw  his 
comedy  on  one  side  for  a  time.  However,  he  did  not  forget 
it;  the  very  obstacles  which  were  opposed  to  him  rendered  - 
him,  as  was  always  the  case,  more  obstinate  in  surmounting 
them.  On  his  return  from  Vienna  in  December,  1774,  at 
the  end  of  his  month's  captivity,  which  gave  him  some  right 
to  a  sort  of  compensation,  he  was  more  urgent  than  ever  in 
requesting  permission  to  represent  his  piece.  Circumstances 
were  favorable :  the  Maupeou  Parliament  had  ceased  to  exist 
for  a  month,  Louis  XV.  was  no  more,  the  manuscript  Avhich 
Beaumarchais  presented  was  very  inoffensive ;  he  at  length 
obtained  permission  to  have  "  The  Barber"  represented.  But, 
between  the  permission  and  the  representation,  he  acted  as 
he  thought  fit :  this  comedy  had  been  pi-ohibited  on  account 
of  pretended  allusions  which  did  not  exist ;  he  made  up  for 
this  unjust  prohibition  by  inserting  in  it  precisely  all  the  al- 
lusions which  the  authorities  had  been  afi-aid  of,  and  which 
were  not  in  it.  He  strengthened  it  with  a  great  number  of 
satirical  reflections,  and  a  multitude  of  allusions  more  or  less 
audacious.  He  also  added  much  to  its  length,  and  increased 
it  by  an  act. 

It  was  in  this  form,  overlaid,  exaggerated,  and  confused,  that 
"  The  Barber  of  Seville"  was  presented  for  the  first  time  to  the 
public,  February  23, 1775.  The  noise  made  by  the  Memori- 
als against  Goezman  was  still  at  its  height.  The  obstacles 
which  had  stopped  the  production  of  his  comedy  for  two  years 
had  redoubled  the  public  curiosity.  Beaumarchais  already 
possessed  the  secret  of  attracting  the  multitude  with  incredible 
force ;  and  at  the  first  representation  there  was  an  influx  of 
spectators  which  was  only  to  be  surpassed  by  that  produced 
by  "  The  Marriage  of  Figaro."  "  Never,"  says  Grimm,  speak- 
ing of  "  The  Barber,"  "  never  did  a  first  representation  attract 
more  people."  "  It  was  impossible,"  says  La  Harpe,  in  his 
turn,  in  the  "  Correspondence,"  it  "  was  impossible  to  appear 
at  a  moment  more  marked  by  the  popular  favor,  or  to  attract 
a  greater  concourse  of  persons." 


252  BEAUMAKCHAIS    AND   UIS  TIMES. 

The  effect  produced  on  this  numerous  audience  was  that  of 
a  very  decided  disappointment.  People  had  expected  a  mas- 
terpiece :  "  It  is  always  very  difficult,"  writes  La  Harpe,  at 
this  time,  "  to  answer  a  great  expectation.  The  piece  appear- 
ed rather  farcical.  The  length  of  the  speeches  was  found 
wearisome,  the  bad  jokes  disgusting,  the  bad  morals  disgust- 
ing." La  Harpe's  first  impression,  when  compared  with  the 
one  produced  by  reading  the  manuscript  of  "  The  Barber"  as 
it  was  first  represented,  seems  correct  enough.  Beaumar- 
chais  had  counted  too  much  on  his  popularity ;  he  had  made 
too  free  a  use  in  every  way  of  his  verve,  and  encumbered  his 
piece  with  useless  scenes  and  jokes,  which  were  frequently 
coarse,  and  destroyed  all  its  charms,  giving  to  it  sometimes  all 
the  character  of  a  burlesque.     TTie  failure  was  complete. 

The  next  day  Beaumarchais  retouched  the  piece,  and  trans- 
formed a  comedy  which  was  full  of  faults  into  a  masterpiece. 
It  was  as  complete  a  success  as  it  had  been  a  failure.  The 
audience  recognized  in  it  an  orignal  restoration  of  the  old  com- 
edy of  "  Intrigue,"  freshened,  extended,  and  revivified,  and  the 
hisses  of  the  previous  evening  changed  into  applause.  "  I 
went  yesterday,"  writes  Madame  du  Deffand,  "  to  see  Beau- 
marchais' comedy,  which  was  being  represented  for  the  second 
time ;  the  first  time  it  was  hissed,  yesterday  it  had  an  extrav- 
agant success.  It  was  exalted  to  the  clouds,  and  applauded 
beyond  all  bounds." 

During  the  first  thirty  representations  of  "  The  Barber  of 
Seville,"  Beaumarchais  lived  on  the  best  terms  with  the  actors 
of  the  Comedie  Fran^aise;  there  was  one  continued  inter- 
change of  billets  doux  between  them.  But  he  soon  thought 
he  perceived  that  the  actors  were  endeavoring  to  make  his 
piece  fail  in  order  to  confiscate  it  to  their  profit,  in  virtue  of 
the  law  which  gave  to  the  actors  the  exclusive  property  of  ev- 
ery piece  the  receipts  of  which  once  descended  below  a  certain 
figure.  To  secure  himself  from  any  charge  of  cupidity,  he  took 
the  cause  of  the  authors  in  hand  against  this  absurd  law. 
For  many  years  he  fought  the  battle  with  the  actors ;  but  it 
was  not  till  the  Revolution  came  to  his  aid  that  he  was  able 
to  conquer  them,  and  to  secure  the  recognition  of  the  inde- 
pendence and  rights  of  authors.     He  did  succeed  at  last ;  and 


*  LE    FALCOZ.  253 

the  present  society  of  dramatic  authors  owes  to  him  its  or- 
igin. 

He  was  not,  however,  yet  free  from  all  the  fetters  of  the 
past.  The  first  civil  action  against  the  Count  de  la  Blache 
was  still  going  on.  The  judgment  given  against  Beaumarchais 
had  been  annulled  by  a  decree  of  the  Grand  Council,  and  the 
affair  sent  before  the  Parliament  of  Provence.  The  last  de- 
cisive battle  was  fought  at  Aix,  in  July,  1778.  In  vain  had 
the  Count  de  la  Blache  surrounded  himself  by  six  advocates, 
and  prepared  his  victory  long  beforehand  ;  Beaumarchais'  pen 
acted  rapidly  on  the  Provencal  heads.  At  the  expiration  of  a 
few  days  the  public  were  gained  over.  "  You  have  turned  the 
whole  town,"  said  his  solicitor  to  him.  His  triumph  was  com- 
plete, and  a  final  judgment  freed  him  forever  from  the  Count 
de  la  Blache.  The  intoxicating  effect  of  this  triimiph,  after 
so  many  years  of  uncertainty  and  struggles,  and  the  Provencal 
enthusiasm  with  which  he  was  received,  are  described  by  an 
eye-witness  in  an  unpublished  letter  written  from  Aix  by 
Gudin,  and  which  appears  to  us  sufficiently  interesting  to  be 
reproduced. 

"  D'AU,  July  23, 1778. 
"  Beaumarchais  has  at  last  gained  his  action  at  Aix.  The  case 
has  been  decided  unanimously  in  his  favor,  with  expenses  and  dam- 
ages, Le  Falcoz  being  upset  in  all  his  demands  and  claims  as  un- 
founded and  calumnious ;  this  word  is  in  the  judgment.  The  affair 
has  been  examined  and  discussed  here  with  particular  attention,  and 
the  questions  of  law  have  been  treated  with  a  clearness  and  depth 
which  must  do  honor  to  the  bar  of  the  towm.  Le  Falcoz  exhibited 
prodigious  activity  and  excessive  skill ;  every  day  he  went  out  at 
five  o'clock  in  the  morning,  visited  all  his  judges,  went  round  to  his 
six  advocates,  and  showed  himself  every  where.  Beaumarchais  did 
quite  the  contrary  ;  he  saw  no  one,  he  did  not  even  go  to  his  judges. 
I  scolded  him  for  it  sometimes ;  but  he  replied  to  me  like  the  Misan- 
thrope, '  Ma  cause  n'est-elle  pas  bonne  V  By  way  of  replying  to  one 
of  Falcoz's  pleas,  which  set  forth,  with  inconceivable  impudence,  that 
Beaumarchais  had  never  been  connected  with  M.  Duverney,  Beau- 
marchais let  off  at  him  the  Memorial,  which  you  must  have  received, 
'  Reponse  ingenue,'  &c.  Le  Falcoz,  seconded  by  Chatillon  and  six 
advocates,  having  presented  his  petition  to  have  the  said  Memorial 
burned  by  the  hands  of  the  executioner,  and  having  published  an- 
other Memorial,  and  another  consultation,  signed  by  the  six,  Beau- 
marchais replied  to  them  in  another  document,  which  you  are  not  yet 


254  BEAUMAECHAIS   AND   HIS   TIMES.    * 

acquainted  with,  ^titled  '  Le  Tartare  k  la  legion.'  He  treats  them 
therein  like  a  genuine  Tartar,  except  that  he  ridicules  them  with 
more  liveliness  than  there  ever  was  in  the  whole  of  Scythia.  While 
he  was  thus  amusing  himself,  and  laughing  with  his  counsel,  numer- 
ous advocates  of  the  town  communicated  to  him  and  his  advocate, 
and  even  printed,  statements  which  proved  that  he  had  on  his  side 
both  the  authority  of  the  law  and  all  the  commentators  of  laws.  The 
judges  maintained  the  most  profound  silence,  and  examined  the  affair 
with  a  severity  calculated  to  confound  all  rash  individuals.  Our  Tar- 
tar asked  to  be  allowed  to  speak  to  his  assembled  judges,  and  to  com- 
municate with  them  all  together ;  but  as  he  claimed  no  advantage 
over  his  adversary,  he  asked  the  same  favor  for  him.  This  was 
granted  to  them  ;  and  as  they  both  speak  well,  the  two  sittings  were 
very  interesting.  But  the  loftiness,  the  confidence,  the  frank  manner 
of  stating  facts,  and  the  good  reasons  which  our  Tartar  exhibited, 
could  not  fail  to  influence  the  minds  of  all,  which  were  in  no  way 
dazzled  by  the  subtleness  of  his  adversary,  who  was  heard  after  him. 
Public  opinion,  which  had  been  prejudiced  during  the  last  two  years 
by  the  publication  of  Falcoz's  consultation,  and  during  the  last  two 
months  by  his  visits,  his  speeches,  his  uniform,  his  title,  and  his  alle- 
gations, had  been  suddenly  taken  from  him  by  the  vigorous  replies 
of  the  Tartar.  There  now  only  remained  to  him  a  weak  party,  com- 
posed of  persons  who  were  obstinately  attached  to  the  nobility  or  to 
their  own  interests.  The  whole  town,  which  lives  upon  lawsuits, 
was  in  a  state  of  expectation  and  impatience.  The  judges  were  de- 
liberating, the  doors  of  the  court  were  besieged ;  the  women,  and  all 
who  were  curious  or  interested  about  the  matter,  were  beneath  the 
long  avenue  of  trees  not  far  from  the  court ;  the  idlers  filled  the  ca- 
fes, which  are  on  each  side  of  this  promenade.  Le  Falcoz  was  in 
his  drawing-room,  which  was  well  lighted  up,  and  looks  upon  this  av- 
enue ;  our  friend  was  in  a  very  distant  quarter.  Night  approached ; 
at  last  the  doors  of  the  court  were  opened,  these  words  were  heard : 
'  Beaumarchais  has  won.'  A  thousand  voices  repeated  them,  clap- 
ping of  hands  spread  all  along  the  walk,  the  windows  and  doors  of  Le 
Falcoz  were  suddenly  closed,  the  multitude,  with  shouts  and  accla- 
mations, reached  the  residence  of  our  friend ;  men,  women,  the  per-" 
sons  with  whom  he  was  acquainted,  and  those  with  whom  he  was 
not  acquainted,  embraced,  felicitated,  and  congratulated  him.  This 
universal  joy,  these  shouts,  these  transports  affected  him,  tears  over- 
took him,  and  at  last,  like  a  great  child,  he  fell  into  our  arms  and 
fainted  away.  There  was  a  general  contest  as  to  who  should  suc- 
cor him,  who  should  give  him  vinegar,  a  smelling-bottle,  and  air ; 
but,  to  use  his  own  words,  the  sweet  effects  of  joy  do  no  harm ;  he 
soon  recovered,  and  we  went  together  to  see  and  thank  the  first  pres- 


BEA.UMABCHAIS   AKD   THE   WAE   OF   INDEPENDENCE.       255 

ident.  This  magistrate,  with  the  noble  severity'  of  the  head  of  an 
august  tribunal,  reproached  him  with  the  aggresswreness  of  his  Me- 
morials. He  was  right :  as  a  man,  one  must  approve  of  them ;  as  a 
magistrate,  it  is  impossible  to  do  so  conscientiously.  In  fact,  they 
had  appeared  so  lively  to  the  Parliament  that  it  had  been  unable  to 
avoid  condemning  the  second  to  be  torn  up,  not  by  the  hand  of  an 
executioner,  as  this  Falcoz  desired,  but  by  that  of  an  officer  of  the 
court,  which  is  a  very  different  thing.  By  way  of  teaching  him  to 
be  so  amusing  another  time,  he  was  condemned,  in  addition  to  the 
destruction  of  his  Memorial,  to  give  a  thousand  crowns  to  the  poor 
of  the  town,  and  he  has  given  them  two  thousand  by  way  of  congrat- 
ulating them,  he  said,  '  on  having  such  good  and  virtuous  magis- 
trates.' Falcoz's  Memorials  have  also  been  suppressed.  On  return- 
ing from  the  house  of  the  first  president,  we  found  the  same  crowd 
at  the  door ;  tambourines,  flutes,  and  violins  came  in  succession  be- 
fore and  after  supper.  All  the  fagots  of  the  quarter  were  heaped 
together  and  made  into  a  bonfire.  Persons  of  reading  said,  as  they 
passed  beneath  tlie  windows, 

V  '  Montrez  Heraclius  an  people  qui  I'attend.' 

"  The  ladies  who  were  in  his  apartments  wished  to  enjoy  the  sight, 
and  obliged  our  friend  to  come  to  the  window,  and  not  to  be  modestly 
cruel  toward  people  who  had  shown  him  so  much  good  will.  The 
workmen  of  the  town  have  composed  a  song  in  honor  of  him,  in  Pro- 
vencal patois,  and  sang  it  to  him  in  a  body  beneath  his  windows.  Ev- 
ery heart  shared  in  his  delight,  and  every  one  is  enchanted  with  him 
and  treats  him  as  a  celebrated  man,  to  whose  probity  the  justice 
which  was  his  due  has  at  length  been  paid." 


CHAPTER  XVn. 


Beaumarchais  and  the  War  of  Independence. — France  and  England  in 
1775. — Beanmarchais  and  Wilkes. — Memorial  to  the  King. — The  Op- 
position in  England. — Beaumarchais  to  the  King. — Beaumarchais 
supported  by  the  Ministry. — The  Ministry's  first  Grant. 

Among  all  the  French  writers  who  have  spoken  of  Beau- 
marchais in  connection  with  one  of  the  greatest  events  of 
modem  times,  the  war  of  American  independence,  I  only  know 
of  one  who  has  had  even  a  vague  idea  of  the  share  taken  by 
the  author  of  "  The  Barber  of  Seville"  in  that  event.  All  the 
others  content  themselves  with  saying  that  he  sent  ammunition 


256  BEAUMABCHAIS  AND  lUS  TIMES. 

and  arms  secretly  to  the  insurgent  colonies.  In  the  edition 
of  Beaumarchais'  works,  published  in  1809  by  Gudin,  almost 
all  the  documents  relating  to  this  portion  of  his  life  have  been 
voluntarily  suppressed.  The  heirs  of  the  author  of  "  The 
Barber  of  Seville"  were  then  carrying  on  with  the  United 
States  a  lawsuit,  which  was  not  finally  settled  until  1835.  In 
face  of  the  arguments  which  were  made  use  of  for  not  paying 
the  debt  contracted  with  Beaumarchais,  it  would  have  been 
imprudent  to  publish  these  documents ;  by  raising  the  posi- 
tion of  the  negotiator,  and  exhibiting  him  no  longer  as  a  mere 
speculator,  but  also  as  a  promoter  and  agent  of  the  French 
policy,  there  was  at  the  same  time  a  risk  of  their  giving  some 
appearance  of  justice  to  the  ill-founded  objections  of  the  United 
States  government.  Beaumarchais'  influence,  then,  in  the 
transactions  which  brought  about  the  American  war,  has  re- 
mained almost  unknown  in  France.  On  the  other  hand,  va- 
rious works  have  been  published  in  the  United  States  against 
Beaumarchais'  claim,  and  consequently  against  himself,  in 
which  some  facts  are  mixed  up  with  a  great  many  errors,  and 
which  prove  that  nations,  like  individuals,  are  not  always  dis- 
tinguished by  their  gratitude.  At  present  there  is  no  harm 
in  setting  forth  exactly,  without  exaggerating  it,  but  at  the 
same  time  without  lessening  it  or  changing  its  character,  the 
part  played  by  Beaumarchais  in  one  of  the  most  important 
acts  of  Louis  XVI. 

The  writer  whom  I  pointed  out  above  as  having  had  some 
vague  idea  as  to  what  this  part  was  is  the  Duke  de  Levis, 
who  in  his  "  Souvenirs  and  Portraits,"  in  treating  of  the  rup- 
ture between  England  and  France,  in  reference  to  the  United 
States  under  the  Maurepas  ministry  in  1778,  wrote  the  fol- 
lowing lines :  "  A  wise  ministry  would  have  profited  by  the 
embarrassed  position  of  the  English  to  increase  our  fleet  with- 
out endangering  it,  and  Louis  XVL,  whose  disposition  was 
pacific,  would  easUy  have  entered  into  these  views.  He  would 
have  waited  with  patience  for  the  development  of  a  large  mar- 
itime force,  capable  of  making  his  power  respected  in  the  two 
worlds.  This  prudent  system  was  counteracted  by  the  influ- 
ence which  Beaumarchais  exercised  on  M.  de  Maurepas.  This 
man,  more  fa7nous  in  literature  tJuxn  in  politics,  nevertheless  had 


BEAUMAKCHAIS  AND  THE  WAR  OF  INDEPENDENCE.       257 

rather  a  large  share  in  the  war  of  independence"  Hitherto,  if 
we  except  the  question  of  opinion,  which  we  will  examine  pres- 
ently, the  facts  set  forth  by  M.  de  Le'vis  are  correct ;  but  what 
follows  is  a  gross  error,  a  strange  confusion  of  dates  and  cir- 
cumstances. This  is  what  the  Duke  de  Levis  adds :  "  Beau- 
marchais  had  purchased  at  the  lowest  price,  in  Holland,  an 
immense  quantity  of  guns,  not  less  than  sixty  thousand,  and 
had  sold  them  on  credit  to  the  agents  of  the  Americans.  If 
they  succumbed,  his  claim  became  lost  with  their  liberty.  The 
skillful  author  of  '  Figaro,'  who  had  found  access  to  M.  de 
Maurepas,  and  who  amused  him  by  his  sallies,  succeeded  in 
determining  him  to  commence  hostilities."  It  was  scarcely 
worth  while  to  have  shown  such  correct  information  just  be- 
fore, in  order  to  confound  two  things  which  have  not  the  least 
connection :  the  policy  of  France  in  the  American  question, 
which  lasted  from  1775  to  1778,  and  the  purchase  of  sixty 
thousand  guns  by  Beaumarchais  in  Holland,  fourteen  years 
later,  in  1792,  and  which  were  purchased,  not  for  the  United 
States,  who  had  then  no  longer  any  need  for  them,  but  for 
France,  and  which  consequently  had  nothing  to  do  with  the 
American  affair.  Under  the  Maurepas  ministry,  Beaumar- 
chais had  not  to  buy  guns  in  Holland,  for.  the  excellent  reason 
that  he  took  them  from  the  government  arsenals.  Accord- 
ingly, the  inferences  which  M.  de  Levis  draws  from  the  pur- 
chase of  the  guns  fall  to  the  ground  with  the  fact  itself. 

The  author  of  "  Souvenirs  et  Portraits"  is  no  less  deceived 
when,  in  criticising  M.  de  Maurepas'  policy,  which,  according 
to  him,  was  suggested  by  Beaumarchais,  he  says  the  follow- 
ing :  "  If  M.  de  Maurepas  had  been  more  clever,  he  would 
have  sent  the  Americans  abundant  and  secret  assistance,  but 
he  would  never  have  come  to  a  rupture,  which  the  English 
themselves  were  anxious  to  avoid.  In  this  manner  he  would 
have  prolonged  a  ruinous  war  between  the  mother  country 
and  the  colonies :  while  economizing  the  resources  of  France, 
he  would  have  exhausted  those  of  her  eternal  rival."  We 
shall  prove,  on  the  contrary,  that  the  system  of  secret,  if  not 
abundant  assistance,  which  M.  de  Levis  reproaches  the  French 
ministry  with  not  having  practiced,  was  precisely  the  one 
which  was  adopted  through  the  influence  of  BeaumarcJiais ; 


258  BEAUMAECHAIS   XSD    HIS   TIMES. 

that  this  system  was  maintained  as  long  as  it  could  be,  but 
that  a  period  soon  arrived  when  to  continue  it  became  impos- 
sible, and  when  it  became  necessary  to  choose  between  a  war 
against  England  reconciled  with  America,  or  an  alliance  with 
America  against  England.  From  1774  to  1778  the  French 
policy  on  the  question  which  occupies  us  went  through  three 
distinct  phases,  which  succeeded  one  another  as  a  matter  of 
necessity:  First,  absolute  neutrality,  in  expectation  of  events  ; 
secondly,  secret  support ;  thirdly,  open  alliance.  We  shall 
see  Beaumarchais  exhausting  himself  in  efforts  to  drag  our 
policy  from  the  first  to  the  second  phase,  which  was  to  pro- 
duce the  third,  and  we  shall  see  him  succeed  in  it ;  but  if  he 
succeeded,  it  was  not  alone,  as  M.  de  Le'vis  said,  because  he 
amused  M.  de  Maurepas  in  his  old  age  by  his  sallies ;  he 
brought  something  else  to  the  question  besides  sallies.  M.  de 
Maurepas,  in  spite  of  his  influence,  did  not  in  himself  consti- 
tute the  whole  government ;  the  department  of  foreign  affairs 
was  at  that  time  intrusted  to  a  minister,  M.  de  Vergennes, 
whom  history,  perhaps,  does  not  appreciate  at  his  full  value, 
because  he  did  not  occupy  himself  in  getting  his  praises  cele- 
brated, but  who  was  none  the  less  for  that  one  of  the  most 
enlightened,  wise,  and  firm  ministers  France  ever  had.  M.  de 
Vergennes  was  not  a  man  to  let  himself  be  taken  by  sallies. 

To  consider  another  point :  Louis  XVI.,  the  most  upright 
of  kings,  was  strongly  averse  to  making  use  of  the  underhand 
schemes  which  are  sanctioned  in  politics,  even  toward  a  rival 
power,  which,  to  gain  an  advantageous  end,  did  not  always 
trouble  itself  about  the  morality  of  the  means.  For  such  a 
king  and  such  a  minister  to  determine  on  intrusting  Beaumar- 
chais with  the  dangerous  and  delicate  operation  of  which  we 
have  to  give  an  account,  it  was  necessary,  on  the  one  hand, 
that  the  exigencies  of  the  situation  should  be  in  accordance 
with  his  arguments,  and,  on  the  other  hand,  that  both  should 
have  some  confidence,  not  only  in  the  wit,  but  in  the  capacity, 
sagacity,  and  prudence  of  the  person  who  received  such  a  mis- 
sion from  them. 

What  was  the  position  of  France  in  relation  to  England  at 
the  period  when  the  quarrel  between  the  American  colonies 
and  the  mother  countiy  broke  out  ?     Its  situation  was  deplor- 


FEANCE  AND  ENGLAND  IN  1775.  259 

able ;  the  disastrous  seven  years'  war  had  benefited  England 
alone.  During  these  seven  years'  hostilities  more  than  nine 
hundred  thousand  men  had  perished  by  land  and  sea,  without 
reckoning  the  victims  of  the  ravages  and  miseries  which  war 
brmgs  in  its  train — and  at  the  termination  of  this  long  strug- 
gle, no  alteration  was  made  in  the  limits  of  the  Continental 
powers.  England  alone  had  gained  at  our  expense  in  her  col- 
onies and  commerce.  By  the  fatal  treaty  of  1763,  we  had  to 
give  up  to  her  Canada,  the  Isle  of  Cape  Breton,  the  islands  of 
Grenada,  St.  Vincent,  Dominica,  and  Tobago,  besides  Senegal ; 
our  Indian  possessions  were  ruined,  and,  to  complete  the  insult, 
England  had  forced  us  to  raze  the  fortifications  of  Dunkirk, 
and  to  submit  forever  to  the  presence  of  an  English  commis- 
sioner, without  whose  authoi'ization  it  was  not  permitted  to 
move  a  single  paving-stone  on  the  quays  or  harbor  of  a  French 
city.  This  last  article  of  the  treaty  of  1763  had  remained  on 
the  heart  of  France  as  a  bitter  insult ;  and  it  is  pleasing  to 
see,  in  an  unpublished  dispatch  from  M.  de  Vergennes  to  M. 
de  Guines,  a  lively  feeling  of  the  shock  inflicted  on  the  national 
pride  by  this  odious  stipulation.  We  can  perceive  in  it  a  no- 
ble desire  to  efface  this  shame,  which  was  indeed  effaced  by 
the  American  war. 

"  You  know,"  writes  the  minister  to  his  embassador  in  July, 
1775,  "the  jealous  sensitiveness  with  which  this  article,  so 
humiliating  to  France,  is  regarded,  and  the  abuse  to  which 
the  English  ministers  have  only  too  often  turned  it  for  our 
mortification."  The  tone  of  English  diplomacy  was  indeed 
that  of  the  conqueror's ;  it  was  harsh,  readily  arrogant,  and 
bore  the  vindictive  stamp  of  the  policy  of  Lord  Chatham. 

It  was  impossible,  in  such  a  situation,  for  France  and  its 
government  not  to  look  with  a  certain  interest  upon  the  quar- 
rel which  had  long  been  entered  into  between  the  colonies  and 
England  upon  the  question  of  taxation,  as  it  gradually  became 
more  bitter,  and  assumed  a  graver  and  graver  aspect.  The 
rigorous  measures  adopted  in  1774  by  the  English  ministry 
.  against  the  town  of  Boston  made  America  pass  from  opposi- 
tion to  contest ;  but  it  still  seemed  scarcely  possible  that  the 
movement  could  not  be  repressed,  and  that  inexperienced  and 
unarmed  militia  would  make  head  against  the  English  troops. 


260  BEAUMARCHAIS  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

If  the  opposition  in  England  made  use  of  this  rebellion,  and 
exaggerated  its  importance,  in  order  to  attack  the  ministry  of 
Lord  North,  it  did  not  itself  believe  the  danger  was  serious. 
As  for  the  ministerial  party,  it  saw  nothing  in  it  but  an  insig- 
nificant disturbance.  The  French  government  thought  then, 
first  of  all,  like  every  one,  that  the  quarrel  would  end  by  being 
promptly  suppressed,  and  followed  by  some  concessions.  How- 
ever, it  was  necessary  for  it  to  be  well  informed  as  to  the  prog- 
ress and  effect  of  events,  and  it  could  only  acquire  this  infor- 
mation at  London.  The  French  embassador  at  London  was 
then  the  Count,  afterward  the  Duke  de  Guines,  a  man  of  wit 
and  pleasure,  but  of  very  ordinary  capacity,  whose  informa- 
tion, derived  as  it  was  from  the  English  ministers,  and  accept- 
ed without  being  verified,  inspired  but  little  confidence.  Hence 
it  was  necessary  for  the  French  government  to  have  recourse 
to  every  source  of  information,  and  to  send  various  agents  to 
London.  Beaumarchais,  as  was  his  custom,  put  himself  for- 
ward; he  had  given  satisfaction  by  the  skill  with  which  he 
had  treated  the  affair  of  D'Eon's  papers,  which  had  been  stand- 
ing over  several  years.  This  affair,  not  being  yet  completely 
terminated,  presented  a  natural  pretext  for  sending  him  to 
London,  where  he  had  the  advantage  of  being  intimate  at  the 
same  time  with  the  most  opposite  parties.  It  will  be  remem- 
bered that  ten  years  previously,  in  the  course  of  his  residence 
in  Spain,  he  had  been  the  favorite  of  Lord  Rochford,  who  was 
then  embassador  at  Madrid,  and  a  great  musical  amateur: 
Beaumarchais  used  to  sing  duets  with  him,  and  had  always 
kept  up  his  intimacy  with  him  as  much  as  possible.  Now  in 
1775,  Lord  Rochford  happened  to  be  minister  of  foreign  af- 
fairs in  Lord  North's  cabinet,  and  Lord  Rochford  was  not  a 
model  of  discretion,  to  judge  by  the  following  lines,  which  I 
extract  from  a  dispatch,  wherein  M.  de  Vergennes  character- 
izes the  English  minister  with  his  prudent  and  calm  manner : 
"  If,"  he  writes,  "  the  idea  we  have  formed  of  Lord  Rochford 
is  correct,  it  can  not  be  difficult  to  make  him  say  more  than 
he  intends."  Beaumarchais,  in  fact,  knew  very  easily  how  to 
make  Lord  Rochford  speak  out.  It  is  true  that  this  minister 
was  replaced  at  the  end  of  1775,  but  he  always  remained  a 
very  influential  man,  living  on  terms  of  intimacy  with  George 
III.,  and  consequently  well  worth  listening  to. 


BEAUMAKCUAIS    AND    WILKES.  261 

Beaumarchais  was  not  less  intimate  with  the  democrat,  or 
rather  the  demagogue  Wilkes,  a  pei"sonage  who  was  not  very 
worthy  of  the  influence  he  exercised  for  several  years,  but  who 
at  this  time,  as  mayor  of  London,  was  moving  and  directing 
the  masses  at  will.  Wilkes  had  ardently  embraced  the  cause 
of  the  colonies,  which  he  made  the  subject  of  vigorous  attacks 
against  Lord  North's  cabinet.  At  his  house  Beaumarchais 
met  all  the  Americans  who  came  to  England  to  take  the  part 
of  the  insurgents,  or  to  observe  the  progress  of  affaii-s.  At 
the  epoch  at  which  we  have  arrived  (1775)  the  colonies  had 
not  yet  completely  broken  with  the  mother  country ;  but  the 
first  Congress  that  was  held  at  Philadelphia,  while  repelling 
the  notion  of  a  separation,  had  nevertheless  held  it  out  in  per- 
spective as  a  threat,  in  case  England  should  not  do  justice  to 
the  lawful  complaints  of  the  colonies.  The  ministry  had  re- 
plied to  the  Americans  by  sending  troops  and  adopting  rigor- 
ous measures.  A  royal  proclamation  declared  them  guilty  of 
rebellion.  A  bill  was  brought  in,  by  which  it  was  ordered 
that  they  should  be  treated  as  enemies,  and  all  their  ships 
chased.  These  acts  produced  the  most  lively  discussions. 
Wilkes  called  for  the  heads  of  ministers  who  were  crushed  be- 
neath the  weight  of  Lord  Chatham's  eloquence.  The  situation 
was  critical  in  the  highest  degree,  and  nevertheless  very  few 
persons,  either  in  England  or  France,  thought  that  a  separa- 
tion was  imminent.  The  ministerial  oratore  insisted  on  the 
necessity  of  finishing  with  a  handful  of  disafiected  persons; 
the  orators  of  the  opposition  called  on  the  ministers  for  an  ac- 
count of  the  English  blood  which  had  been  shed  by  English 
hands,  and  suggested  plans  of  concilation ;  but  the  possibility 
of  a  complete  rupture  was  rejected  by  all.  At  this  moment, 
in  September,  1775,  Beaumarchais  addressed  a  long  unpub- 
lished Memorial,  of  which  I  must  reproduce  the  greater  part. 
It  will  be  remarked  with  what  sagacity,  nearly  a  year  before 
the  declaration  of  independence,  at  a  period  when  the  triumph 
of  the  Americans  still  appeared  a  chimera,  he  puts  their  triumph 
forward  as  a  certainty,  of  which  it  is  impossible  to  doubt,  and 
the  sure  prospect  of  which  should  be  used  as  a  basis  for  the 
policy  of  France.     The  following  is  the  Memorial : 


262  BEAUMARCHAIS    AND    HIS   TIMES. 

TO    THE    KING.* 

"  Sire, — ^With  the  firm  confidence  I  entertain  that  the  extracts  I 
address  to  your  majesty  are  for  you  alone,  and  will  not  go  out  of  your 
hands,  I  will  continue,  sire,  to  present  to  you  the  truth  on  all  points 
known  to  me,  which  appear  to  me  to  be  of  value  to  your  service, 
without  regard  to  the  interests  of  any  one  in  the  world. 

"  I  withdrew  from  England  under  pretext  of  going  to  the  country, 
and  have  come  in  all  haste  from  London  to  Paris,  in  order  to  confer 
with  Messieurs  de  Vergennes  and  Sartines  on  matters  which  are  too 
important  and  too  delicate  to  be  intrusted  to  the  fidelity  of  any  courier. 

"  Sire,  England  is  in  such  a  crisis,  such  a  state  of  disorder  within 
and  without,  that  it  would  be  almost  on  the  point  of  ruin  if  her  neigh- 
bors and  rivals  were  themselves  in  a  state  to  occupy  themselves 
seriously  about  her.  I  will  set  forth  faithfully  the  position  of  the 
English  in  America ;  I  received  the  particulars  from  an  inhabitant 
of  Philadelphia,  who  had  lately  arrived  from  the  colonies,  and  had 
just  been  present  at  a  conference  with  the  English  ministers,  who 
were  thrown  into  the  greatest  trouble,  and  struck  with  terror  by  his 
recital.  The  Americans,  determined  to  suffer  every  thing  rather 
than  give  way,  and  full  of  that  enthusiasm  for  liberty  which  has  so 
often  rendered  the  little  nation  of  Corsica  redoubtable  to  the  Genoese, 
have  thirty-eight  thousand  effective  men,  armed  and  resolute,  beneath 
the  walls  of  Boston ;  they  have  reduced  the  English  army  to  the 
necessity  of  dying  of  hunger  in  this  town,  or  of  seeking  for  winter 
quarters  elsewhere,  which  it  will  do  forthwith.  About  forty  thou- 
sand men,  well  armed,  and  as  determined  as  the  former,  defend  the 
rest  of  the  country,  without  these  eighty  thousand  men  having  taken 
away  a  single  laborer  from  the  ground,  a  single  workman  from  the 
manufactories.  All  those  persons  who  were  engaged  in  the  fisheries, 
which  the  English  have  destroyed,  have  become  soldiers,  and  feel 
that  they  have  to  avenge  the  ruin  of  their  families  and  the  liberty  of 
their  country ;  all  those  persons  who  took  part  in  maritime  commerce, 
which  the  English  have  brought  to  an  end,  have  joined  the  fishermen 
to  make  war  on  their  common  persecutors ;  all  the  persons  who  worked 
in  the  harbors  have  increased  the  army  of  furious  men,  whose  actions 
are  all  animated  by  a  spirit  of  vengeance  and  hatred. 

"  I  say,  sire,  that  such  a  nation  must  be  invincible,  above  all,  when 
it  has  at  its  back  as  much  country  as  it  can  possibly  require  for  re- 
treating, even  if  the  English  could  make  themselves  masters  of  all 
their  seaboard,  which  they  are  far  from  having  done.  All  sensible 
persons,  then,  are  convinced,  in  England,  that  the  English  colonies 
are  lost  to  the  mother  country,  and  that  is  also  my  opinion. f 

*  Given  to  the  king,  sealed,  by  M.  de  Sartines,  Sept.  21,  1775. 

t  The  debates  of  the  English  Parliament  at  tliis  date,  in  September, 


THE    OPPOSITION   IK   ENGLAND.  263 

"  The  open  war  which  is  taking  place  in  America  is  less  fatal  to 
England  than  the  intestine  war  which  must  yet  break  out  in  London  ; 
the  bitterness  between  parties  has  been  carried  to  the  greatest  excess 
since  the  proclamation  of  the  King  of  England  which  declares  the 
Americans  to  be  rebels.  This  absurdity,  this  masterpiece  of  mad- 
ness on  the  part  of  the  government,  has  renewed  tlie  strength  of 
all  the  men  of  the  opposition,  who  have  united  against  it.  A  resolu- 
tion has  been  taken  to  come  to  an  open  collision  with  the  court  party 
during  the  first  sittings  of  the  Parliament.  It  is  thought  that  these 
sittings  will  not  pass  without  seven  or  eight  members  of  the  opposi- 
tion being  sent  to  the  Tower  of  London,  and  that  is  just  the  appoint- 
ed time  for  sounding  the  tocsin.  Lord  Rochford,  who  has  been  my 
friend  for  the  last  fifteen  years,  in  conversing  with  me,  said  these 
words,  with  a  sigh  :  '/  am  much  afraid,  sir,  that  the  winter  will  not 
pass  without  some  heads  being  brought  down,  either  among  the 
king's  party  or  the  opposition.''  On  the  other  side,  the  Lord-mayor 
Wilkes,  in  a  moment  of  joy  and  liberty,  at  the  end  of  a  splendid  din- 
ner, said  to  me  publicly  the  following  words  :  '  The  King  of  England 
has  long  done  me  the  honor  of  hating  me.  For  my  part,  I  have  al- 
ways rendered  him  the  justice  of  despising  him.  The  time  has  come 
for  deciding  which  of  us  has  formed  the  best  opinion  of  the  other, 
and  on  which  side  the  wind  will  cause  heads  to  fall.'* 

"  Lord  North,  who-  is  threatened  with  all  this,  would  willingly  give 
in  his  resignation  if  he  could  do  so  with  honor  and  safety. 

"...  The  least  check  which  the  royal  army  receives  in 
America,  by  increasing  the  audacity  of  the  people  and  the  opposition, 
may  decide  the  affair  at  London  at  a  moment  when  it  is  least  ex- 
pected ;  and  if  the  king  finds  himself  forced  to  yield,  I  say  it  with  a 
shudder,  I  do  not  think  his  crown  more  secure  on  his  head  than  the 
heads  of  his  ministers  upon  their  shoulders.  This  unhappy  English 
nation,  with  its  frantic  liberty,  may  inspire  the  man  who  reflects  with 
true  compassion.  It  has  never  tasted  the  sweetness  of  living  peace- 
ably under  a  good  and  virtuous  king.  They  despise  us,  and  treat  us 
as  slaves  because  we  obey  voluntarily  ;  but  if  the  reign  of  a  weak  or 
bad  prince  has  sometimes  caused  a  momentary  evil  to  France,  tha 
licentious  rage,  which  the  English  call  liberty,  has  never  left  an  in- 
stant of  happiness  and  true  repose  to  this  indomitable  nation.     King 

1775,  prove,  on  the  contrary,  that  the  opinion  which  Beaumarchais 
brings  forward  as  that  of  all  sensible  persons  in  England  was  then  only 
shared  by  very  few.  He  speaks  thus  in  order  to  give  more  weight  to 
his  opinion,  and  thus  takes  away  from  this  opinion  a  proof  of  sagacity 
which  we  must  restore  to  it. 

*  This  speech  of  Wilkes  is  the  more  insolent  from  the  fact  that  it  pro- 
ceeds from  a  man  who  was  wanting  both  in  private  and  political  morality. 


264  BEAUMARCHAIS  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

and  subjects  are  all  equally  unhappy.*  Now,  to  increase  the  trouble 
still  more,  a  secret  subscription  has  been  opened  in  London  at  the 
houses  of  two  of  the  richest  merchants  of  the  capital,  where  all  the 
disaflfected  send  their  gold  to  be  forwarded  to  the  Americans,  or 
to  pay  for  the  assistance  which  is  supplied  to  them  by  the  Dutch. 
They  do  more :  they  have  secret  connections  in  Portugal,  even  in  the 
king's  council,  on  which  they  spend  a  great  deal  of  money  by  way 
of  trying  to  prevent  the  Portuguese  from  coming  to  any  arrange- 
ment with  the  Spaniards.!  They  are  in  hope  that  this  war  will  soon 
draw  the  English  and  French  into  the  quarrel  of  the  allies,  and  that 
this  new  incident  will  with  more  certainty  produce  the  destruction 
of  the  present  ministry,  which  is  the  constant  object  of  all  the  oppo- 
sition. 

"  Resume  :  America  escapes  the  English  in  spite  of  their  efforts ; 
war  is  kindled  with  more  strength  in  London  than  at  Boston.  The 
end  of  this  crisis  will  bring  about  war  with  the  French  if  the  oppo- 
sition triumphs,  whether  Chatham  or  Rockingham  replace  Lord 
North.  The  opposition,  to  increase  the  trouble,  intrigue  in  Portugal 
to  prevent  the  settlement  with  Spain. 

"  Our  ministry,  which  is  badly  informed,  appears  stagnant  and  pass- 
ive over  all  these  events,  which  affect  us  most  nearly. 

"  It  is  indispensable  to  have  a  superior  and  vigilant  man  in  Lon- 
don at  present. 

"  The  first  thing  which  it  is  impossible  to  avoid  doing  is  to  urge 
the  Spanish  ministry  to  be  less  difficult  with  regard  to  its  claims 
against  Portugal.  While  the  English  ministry  is  endeavoring  to 
bring  Portugal  to  a  reconciliation,  and  is  informing  the  Portuguese 
that  the  internal  troubles  of  England  would  absolutely  prevent  her 
at  present  from  assisting  them  according  to  the  terms  of  the  last 
treaty,  it  is  indispensable  that  we  should  take  our  steps  with  the 
Spanish  ministry,  in  order  to  destroy,  as  much  as  possible,  the  effect 
of  the  intrigues  and  money  of  the  English  opposition,  which  is  using 
its  last  efforts  in  Portugal  in  order  seriously  to  produce  a  quarrel  be- 
tween the  two  powers  of  the  South.     .     .     . 

"...  Such,  sire,  are  the  motives  of  my  secret  journey  to 
France.  Whatever  use  your  majesty  may  make  of  this  paper,  I  rely 
enough  on  the  virtue  and  kindness  of  my  master  to  hope  that  he  will 

*  Here  are  political  opinions  which  one  is  not  accustomed  to  attribute 
to  the  author  of  "The  Marriage  of  Figaro."  It  is  true  that  Beaumar- 
chais  wrote  this  to  a  king  of  whom  he  was  the  agent ;  bat,  in  general, 
an  examination  of  his  papers  proves  that,  in  application,  his  political 
ideas  were  but  little  in  accordance  with  the  effervescence  of  his  wit. 

t  There  was  at  this  time  a  dispute  between  Portugal  and  Spain  upon 
a  boundary  question. 


liEAUMAECILMS    AND    M.  DE    VERGENKES.  265 

not  turn  these  proofs  of  my  zeal  against  myself  by  intrusting  them  to 
any  one,  and  thus  increasing  the  number  of  my  enemies,  who  will 
never  stop  me  as  long  as  I  remain  certain  of  the  secrecy  and  protec- 
tion of  your  majesty.  Caron  de  Beaumarchais." 

It  is  seen  that  in  this  Memorial  Beaumarchais  announces, 
with  rare  perspicacity,  the  approaching  triumph  of  the  Amer- 
ican colonies,  but  it  is  also  seen  that  he  lays  stress  on  the  ne- 
cessity of  keeping  away  from  every  thing  which  might  drag 
France  into  a  conflict,  the  moment  of  which  has  not  yet  ar- 
rived. If  Beaumarchais  exaggerates  the  consequences  of  the 
struggle  of  parties  in  England,  the  fact  is,  that  every  one  else 
was  also  deceived.  It  was  naturally  supposed  that  the  checks 
experienced  in  America  would  render  England  furious  with 
her  ministers  ;*  but  the  English  people,  with  that  sentiment 
of  nationality,  and  that  good  sense  which  often  characterize 
it  in  great  crises,  rendered  these  prognostications  untrue.  The 
defeat  of  the  English  troops  weakened  the  opposition  still  more 
than  the  ministry:  every  thing  was  made  subservient  to  the 
necessity  of  fighting  with  energy,  and  the  general  irritation, 
instead  of  being  increased,  became  considerably  allayed.  It 
ought  also  to  be  observed  that  Beaumarchais'  Memorial  to 
the  king  is  stated  to  have  been  first  of  all  given  to  M.  de  Sar- 
tines,  Avhich  authorizes  us  to  suppose  that  Beaumarchais  con- 
cealed this  step  from  M.  de  Vergennes,  or  did  not  find  this 
minister  possessed  the  amount  of  confidence  which  was  req- 
uisite. This,  perhaps,  will  explain  the  following  letter  to  M. 
de  Vergennes,  written  the  day  after  the  Memorial : 

"  M.  le  Comte, — When  zeal  is  indiscreet,  it  ought  to  be  repressed  ; 
when  it  is  welcome,  it  should  be  encouraged  ;  but  all  the  sagacity  in 
the  world  would  be  unable  to  make  a  person,  to  whom  no  reply  is 
given,  imagine  what  conduct  he  is  to  pursue. 

"  I  yesterday  communicated  to  the  king,  through  M.  de  Sartines, 
a  short  paper,  which  is  only  the  resume  of  what  I  stated  to  you  at 
the  long  conference  you  granted  to  me  the  evening  before  :  it  gives 

*  "We  have  read  a  dispatch  of  M.  de  Vergennes,  written  at  about  the 
same  date  as  the  memorial  cited  above,  in  which  this  minister  appears, 
like  Beaumarchais,  swayed  by  the  idea  that  a  rictory  of  the  insurgents 
in  America  must  cause  a  revolution  to  break  out  in  London.  M.  de  Ver- 
gennes goes  so  far  as  to  express  fears  for  the  very  person  of  the  English 
king. 

M 


266  BEAUMAECHAIS  AND    HIS   TIMES. 

the  exact  state  of  men  and  things  in  England  ;  it  concludes  with  the 
proposition  I  had  made  to  you  of  putting  a  gag,  during  the  time  nec- 
essary for  our  warlike  preparations,  on  every  thing  which,  either  by 
shouts  or  silence,  could  hasten  or  retard  the  proper  moment.  All 
this  ought  to  have  been  discussed  at  the  council,  and  this  morning  I 
hear  nothing  from  you  about  it.  The  most  fatal  things  to  all  aflfairs 
are  uncertainty  and  loss  of  time. 

"  Must  I  wait  for  your  answer,  or  am  I  to  start  without  having 
one  ?  Did  I  do  well  or  ill  in  sounding  minds  whose  dispositions  are 
becoming  so  important  to  us?  Shall  I  for  the  future  take  no  advant- 
age of  confidential  communications,  and  shall  I  repel  instead  of 
welcoming  the  overtures  which  must  have  an  influence  on  the  final 
determination  ?     Finally,  am  I  a  useful  agent  to  my  country,  or  only 

a  deaf  and  dumb  traveler  1 I  shall  wait  for  your  answer  to 

this  letter,  to  start.  I  am,  &c.,  Beaumarchais. 

"  Paris,  September  22d,  1775." 

He  received,  without  doubt,  the  answer  he  desii'ed,  for  the 
next  day,  before  going  to  London,  he  wrote  to  M.  de  Ver- 
gennes : 

"  Paris,  September  23,  1775. 

"  M.  le  Comte, — I  start,  well  informed  of  the  king's  intentions 
and  your  own ;  let  your  excellency  be  at  ease  :  it  would  be  an  un- 
pardonable stupidity  on  my  part,  in  such  an  affair,  to  compromise  in 
any  way  the  dignity  of  the  sovereign  and  his  minister ;  to  do  the 
best  one  can  is  nothing  in  politics ;  the  first  blunderer  can  offer  as 
much  ;  to  do  the  best  that  circumstances  admit  of  is  what  ought  to 
distinguish  from  the  common  body  of  his  servants  him  whom  his 
majesty  and  yourself,  M.  le  Comte,  honor  with  your  confidence  on  so 
delicate  a  point.  I  am,  &c.,  Beaumarchais." 

Dating  from  this  moment,  a  direct  correspondence  was 
established  between  Beaumarchais  and  M.  de  Vergennes,  and 
the  argument  which  he  pursues  incessantly  under  various  forms 
is  the  following:  "The  Americans  will  triumph,  but  they 
must  be  assisted  in  their  struggle,  for  if  they  succumbed,  they 
would  join  the  English,  and  would  turn  round  against  us. 
We  are  not  yet  in  a  fit  state  for  making  war ;  we  must  pre- 
pare ourselves,  keep  up  the  struggle,  and  with  that  view  send 
secret  assistance  in  a  prudent  manner  to  the  Americans."  The 
following  Memorial,  addressed  to  Louis  XYL  through  the 
medium  of  M.  de  Vergennes,  is  the  development  of  this  idea, 
and,  when  compared  with  the  first,  shows  us  what  progress 
the  question  had  made : 


BEAUMABCHAIS  TO  THE  KING.  267 

PEACE  OR  WAR. 

TO     THE     KING     ALONE.* 

"  Sire, — The  famous  quarrel  between  America  and  England, 
which  will  soon  divide  the  world  and  change  the  system  of  Europe, 
imposes  upon  each  power  the  necessity  of  examining  well  in  what 
manner  the  event  of  this  separation  can  influence  it,  and  either  serve 
it  or  injure  it. 

"But  the  most  interested  of  all  countries  is  certainly  France, 
whose  sugar  islands  have,  since  the  last  peace,  been  the  constant  ob- 
ject of  the  regrets  and  hopes  of  the  English ;  regrets  and  hopes 
which  must  infallibly  bring  us  war,  unless  by  a  weakness  impossible 
to  suppose  we  consent  to  sacrifice  our  rich  possessions  of  the  gulf  to 
the  chimera  of  a  shameful  peace,  which  would  be  more  injurious  even 
than  the  war  which  we  dread.  In  a  first  Memorial,  sent  three  months 
since  to  your  majesty  by  M.  de  Vergennes,  I  endeavored  to  establish 
soundly  that  your  majesty's  character  for  justice  could  not  be  injured 
by  taking  wise  precautions  against  enemies  who  are  never  delicate 
about  those  they  take  against  us. 

"  At  present,  when  a  violent  crisis  is  approaching  with  great  ra- 
pidity, I  am  obliged  to  warn  your  majesty  that  the  preservation  of 
our  possessions  in  America,  and  the  peace  which  your  majesty 
appears  to  desire  so  much,  depend  solely  upon  this  one  proposition : 
the  Americans  must  be  assisted.     I  will  now  demonstrate  it. 

"  The  King  of  England,  the  ministers  of  the  Parliament,  the  op- 
position, the  nation,  the  English  people,  all  the  parties,  in  fine,  who 
are  tearing  this  state  asunder,  agree  that  they  ought  no  longer  to  hope 
to  regain  the  Americans,  and  that  not  even  the  great  efforts  which 
are  being  now  made  to  subject  them  can  ever  reduce  them  with 
success.  Thence,  sire,  these  violent  debates  between  the  ministry 
and  the  opposition,  this  flux  and  reflux  of  opinions  admitted  or  reject- 
ed, which,  as  they  do  not  advance  matters,  only  serve  to  put  the 
question  in  a  plainer  and  a  clearer  light. 

"  Lord  North,  afraid  of  acting  alone  as  pilot  in  the  height  of  such 
a  storm,  has  just  profited  by  the  ambition  of  Lord  Germaine  to  lay 
all  the  weight  of  affairs  on  his  ambitious  head. 

"  Lord  Germaine,  confused  by  the  clamor,  and  struck  by  the  terri- 
ble arguments  of  the  opposition,  says  now  to  Lords  Shelbume  and 
Rockingham,  the  leaders  of  the  party  :  '  In  the  state  in  which  things 
are,  gentlemen,  will  you  venture  to  answer  to  the  nation  for  the 
Americans  submitting  to  the  Navigation  Act,  and  returning  under  the 
yoke,  on  the  sole  condition,  contained  in  the  plan  of  Lord  Shelburne, 
of  being  replaced  in  the  position  in  which  they  stood  before  the  troub- 

*  Given  to  M.  de  Vergennes,  unclosed,  February  29,  1776. 


268  BEAUMAUCHAIS   AND   HIS  TIMES. 

les  of  1763  ?  If  so,  gentlemen,  take  possession  of  the  ministry,  and 
make  yourselves  responsible  with  the  safety  of  the  state  at  your  risks, 
perils,  and  fortunes,' 

"  The  opposition,  disposed  to  take  the  minister  at  his  word,  and 
quite  ready  to  say  yes,  is  only  stopped  by  a  doubt  lest  the  Americans, 
encouraged  by  their  successes,  and  perhaps  emboldened  by  some 
secret  treaties  with  Spain  and  France,  may  refuse  now  those  very 
conditions  of  peace  wliich  they  asked  for  with  clasped  hands  two 
years  since. 

"  On  the  other  hand,  M.  L.*  (M.  de  Vergennes  will  tell  your  majes- 
ty his  name),  a  secret  deputy  from  the  colonies  to  London,  quite  dis- 
couraged by  the  inability  of  the  efforts  he  has  made,  through  me,  with 
the  French  ministry,  to  obtain  assistance  in  the  shape  of  powder  and 
munitions  of  war,  says  to  me  now,  '  For  the  last  time,  is  France  ab- 
solutely decided  to  refuse  to  us  all  assistance,  and  to  become  the  vic- 
tim of  England  and  the  fable  of  Europe  through  this  incredible  apa- 
thy ■?  Obliged  to  give  a  positive  answer,  I  wait  for  reply  in  order  to 
give  my  own.  We  offer  France,  in  return  for  her  assistance,  a  se- 
cret treaty  of  commerce,  which  will  transfer  to  her,  for  a  certain 
number  of  years  after  the  peace,  all  the  advantages  by  which  we 
have,  for  more  than  a  century,  enriched  England,  besides  guarantee- 
ing her  possessions  according  to  the  forces  at  our  disposal.  Do  you 
not  accept  this  ?  I  only  ask  from  Lord  Shelburne  the  time  a  vessel 
would  take  to  go  and  return,  to  inform  the  Congress  of  the  proposi- 
tions of  England,  and  I  can  tell  you  at  present  what  resolutions  the 
Congress  will  take  on  the  subject.  They  will  immediately  make  a 
public  proclamation,  by  which  they  will  offer  to  all  the  nations  in  the 
world,  in  order  to  obtain  their  assistance,  the  conditions  I  now  offer 
to  you  in  secret.  And  in  order  to  take  vengeance  on  France,  and 
force  her  publicly  to  make  a  declaration  with  respect  to  them,  if  we 
commit  her  beyond  recall,  they  will  send  into  your  ports  the  first 
prizes  they  take  from  the  English  ;  then,  on  whatever  side  you  may 
turn,  this  war,  which  you  avoid  and  fear  so  much,  becomes  inevita- 
ble, for  either  you  will  receive  our  prizes  in  your  ports,  or  you  will 
send  them  back ;  if  you  receive  them,  the  rupture  with  England  is 
certain  ;  if  you  send  them  back,  instantly  the  Congress  accepts  peace 
on  the  conditions  imposed  by  the  mother  country  ;  the  Americans,  in 
indignation,  unite  all  their  forces  to  those  of  England  to  fall  on  your 
islands,  and  prove  to  you  that  the  fine  precautions  you  had  taken  for 
preserving  your  possessions  were  just  those  which  were  to  deprive 
you  of  them  forever. 

*  It  was  Arthiu-  Lee,  who  aftenvard  formed  part,  with  Franklin,  of 
the  American  deputation  to  Paris,  and  of  whom  we  sliall  speak  again 
directlv. 


BEAUMAKCIIAIS   TO   THE   KING.  2G9 

" '  Go,  sir,  go  to  France,  set  before  them  this  picture  of  affairs ;  1 
will  shut  myself  up  in  the  country  until  your  return,  so  as  not  to  be 
forced  to  give  an  answer  before  receiving  yours.  Tell  your  minis- 
ters that  I  am  ready  to  follow  you  there,  if  necessary,  in  order  to  con- 
firm these  declarations  ;  tell  them  that  I  hear  the  Congress  has  sent 
two  deputies  to  the  court  of  Madrid  with  the  same  object,  and  I  may 
add  that  they  have  received  a  very  satisfactory  answer.  Could  the 
French  council  possess  now  the  glorious  prerogative  of  being  the 
only  one  to  be  blinded  as  to  the  glory  of  the  king  and  the  interests 
of  his  kingdom.' 

"  Such,  sire,  is  the  terrible  and  striking  picture  of  our  position. 
Your  majesty  wishes  sincerely  for  peace.  The  resume  of  this  Me- 
morial will  furnish  you,  sire,  with  the  means  of  preserving  it. 

"  Let  us  submit  all  possible  hypotheses,  and  let  us  reason. 

"  What  follows  is  very  important. 

"  Either  England  will  have  the  most  complete  success  in  America 
during  the  campaign ; 

"  Or  the  Americans  will  repel  the  English  with  los& 

"  Either  England  will  come  to  the  determination  already  adopted 
by  the  king  of  abandoning  the  colonies  to  themselves,  or  parting  from 
them  in  a  friendly  manner ; 

"  Or  the  opposition,  in  taking  possession  of  the  government,  will 
answ^er  for  the  submission  of  the  colonies  on  condition  of  their  being 
restored  to  the  position  they  were  in  in  1763. 

"  Here  are  all  the  possibilities  collected  together.  Is  there  a  sin- 
gle one  of  them  which  does  not  instantly  give  you  the  war  you  wish 
to  avoid  ?  Sire,  in  tlie  name  of  God,  deign  to  examine  the  matter 
with  me. 

"  First,  if  England  triumphs  over  America,  she  can  only  do  so  by 
an  enormous  expenditure  of  men  and  money.  Now  the  only  com- 
pensation the  English  propose  to  themselves  for  so  many  losses  is 
to  take  possession  on  their  return  of  the  French  islands,  and  thus 
make  themselves  the  exclusive  vendors  of  the  valuable  supply  of  sug- 
ar, which  can  alone  repair  all  the  injuries  done  to  their  commerce, 
and  this  capture  would  also  render  them  forever  the  absolute  pos- 
sessors of  the  advantages  derived  from  the  contraband  commerce 
carried  on  by  the  Continent  with  these  islands. 

"  Then,  sire,  there  would  remain  to  you  nothing  but  the  option  of 
commencing  at  a  later  period  an  unprofitable  war,  or  of  sacrificing  to 
the  most  shameful  of  inactive  peaces  all  your  American  colonies,  and 
of  losing  280  millions  of  capital,  and  more  than  30  millions  of  revenue. 

"  2.  If  the  Americans  are  victorious,  they  instantly  become  free, 
and  the  English,  in  despair  at  seeing  their  existence  diminished  by 
three  quarters,  will  only  be  the  more  anxious,  the  more  eager  to  seek 


270  BEAUMAKCHAIS   AND   HIS   TIMES. 

a  compensation,  which  will  have  become  indispensable,  in  the  easy 
capture  of  our  American  possessions ;  and  we  may  be  certain  that 
they  will  not  fail  to  do  so. 

"  3.  If  the  English  consider  themselves  forced  to  abandon  the  col- 
onies to  themselves  without  striking  a  blow,  as  it  is  the  secret  wish 
of  the  king  they  should  do,  the  loss  being  the  same  for  their  exist- 
ence, and  their  commerce  being  equally  ruined,  the  result  for  us 
.would  be  similar  to  the  preceding  one,  except  that  the  English,  less 
weakened  by  this  amicable  surrender  than  by  a  bloody  and  ruinous 
campaign,  would  only  derive  from  it  more  means  and  facilities  for 
gaining  possession  of  our  islands,  which  they  would  then  be  unable  to 
do  without,  if  they  wished  to  preserve  their  own,  and  to  keep  any 
footing  in  America. 

"  4.  If  the  opposition  takes  possession  of  the  government,  and  con- 
cludes a  treaty  of  reunion  with  the  colonies,  the  ^"^jnericans,  indignant 
with  France,  whose  refusal  will  alone  have  caused  them  to  ^submit  to 
the  mother  country,  threaten  us  from  the  present  moment  to  unite  all 
their  forces  with  England  in  order  to  take  possession  of  our  islands. 
They  will,  indeed,  only  reunite  with  the  mother  country  on  this  con- 
dition, and  Heaven  knows  with  what  joy  the  ministry,  composed  of 
Lords  Chatham,  Shelburne,  and  Rockingham,  whose  dispositions  to- 
ward us  are  publicly  known,  would  adopt  the  resentment  of  the  Amer- 
icans, and  carry  on  against  you  without  cessation  the  most  obstinate 
and  cruel  war. 

"  What,  then,  is  to  be  done  in  this  extremity,  so  as  to  have  peace 
and  preserve  our  islands  ? 

"  You  will  only  preserve  the  peace  you  desire,  sire,  by  preventing 
it  at  all  price  from  being  made  between  England  and  America,  and 
in  preventing  one  from  completely  triumphing  over  the  other ;  and 
the  only  means  of  attaining  this  end  is  by  giving  assistance  to  the 
Americans,  who  will  put  their  forces  on  an  equality  with  those  of 
England,  but  nothing  beyond.  And  believe  me,  sire,  that  the  econ- 
omy of  a  few  millions  at  present  may,  before  long,  cost  a  great  deal 
of  blood  and  money  to  France. 

"  Believe  me  above  all,  sire,  that  the  necessary  preparations  for 
the  first  campaign  will  alone  cost  you  more  than  all  the  assistance 
you  are  asked  for  now ;  and  that  the  wretched  economy  of  two  or 
three  millions  will  certainly  make  you  lose,  before  two  years,  more 
than  three  hundred. 

"  If  it  be  replied  that  we  can  not  assist  the  Americans  without 
wounding  England,  and  without  drawing  upon  us  the  storm  which  I 
wish  to  keep  off,  I  reply  in  my  turn  that  this  danger  will  not  be  in- 
curred if  the  plan  I  have  so  many  times  proposed  be  followed,  that 
of  secretly  assisting  the  Americans  without  compromising  ourselves ; 


BEAUMAECHAIS   TO   THE   KIKG.  271 

imposing  upon  them,  as  a  first  condition,  that  they  shall  never  send 
any  prizes  into  our  ports,  and  never  commit  any  act  which  shall  tend 
to  divulge  the  secret  of  the  assistance,  which  the  first  indiscretion  on 
the  part  of  Congress  would  cause  it  instantly  to  lose.  And  if  your 
majesty  has  not  at  hand  a  more  clever  man  to  employ  in  the  matter, 
I  undertake  and  answer  for  the  execution  of  the  treaty,  without  any 
one  being  compromised,  persuaded  that  my  zeal  will  supply  my  want 
of  talent  better  than  the  talent  of  another  could  replace  my  zeal. 

"  Your  majesty  can  see,  without  trouble,  that  the  whole  success  of 
this  matter  depends  on  secrecy  and  celerity  ;  and  one  thing  infinitely 
important  to  both  would  be  to  send  Lord  Stormont  back,  if  possible, 
to  London,  as,  through  his  extended  connections  in  France,  he  is  in 
a  position  to  instruct,  and  does  daily  instruct  England  of  all  that  is 
said  and  discussed  in  the  council  of  your  majesty. 

"  This  is  very  extraordinary,  but  this  is  the  case  ;  the  occasion  of 
the  recall  of  M.  de  Guines  is  as  favorable  as  possible. 

"  England  desires  positively  to  have  an  embassador ;  if  your  maj- 
esty were  in  no  haste  to  name  a  successor  to  M.  de  Guines,  and  sent 
to  England  a  charge  d'affaires  or  minister  of  acknowledged  capacity,* 
Lord  Stormont  would  be  instantly  recalled  ;  and,  whatever  minister 
they  might  name  in  place  of  this  embassador,  much  time  would  elapse 
before  he  could  be  in  a  position,  through  his  connections,  to  do  us  as 
much  harm  as  we  receive  from  Lord  Stormont ;  and  the  crisis  once 
passed,  the  most  frivolous  or  the  most  magnificent  of  our  nobles  might 
be  sent  without  risk  as  embassador  to  London ;  after  the  plan  had 
been  carried  out  or  had  failed,  all  the  rest  would  be  without  import- 
ance. Your  majesty  can  judge  by  these  papers  whether  my  zeal  is 
not  as  enlightened  as  it  is  ardent  and  pure ;  but  if  my  august  master, 
forgetting  all  the  dangers  which  a  word  escaping  from  his  mouth 
might  cause  to  a  good  servant,  who  knows  and  serves  but  him  alone, 
should  allow  it  to  appear  that  it  is  from  me  he  receives  this  secret 
information,  then  even  the  exercise  of  all  his  authority  would  with 
difiiculty  preserve  me  from  ruin,  so  much  power  have  cabals  and  in- 
trigues, sire,  in  the  midst  of  your  court  to  injure  and  upset  the  most 
important  enterprises.  Your  majesty  knows  better  than  any  one  that 
secrecy  is  the  soul  of  business ;  and  that  in  politics,  a  plan  discovered 
is  only  a  plan  lost.  Since  I  have  served  you,  sire,  I  have  never  asked 
you,  nor  ever  will  ask  you,  for  any  thing.  Only,  my  sovereign  mas- 
ter, provide  that  I  be  not  hindered  from  working  in  your  service,  and 
all  my  existence  is  consecrated  to  you. 

"  Caron  de  Beaumabchais." 

*  The  advice  of  Beanmarchais  was  followed.  After  the  recall  of  M. 
de  Guines,  a  simple  charge  d'affaires,  M.  Gamier,  was  in  the  first  in- 
stance sent  to  England. 


272  EEAUIIAECIIAIS    AND    HIS    TIMES. 

It  is  seen  from  the  above  that  Beaumarchais  considers  the 
moment  to  have  arrived  for  supporting  strongly  the  plan  of 
secret  assistance,  and  that  he  sets  forth  this  plan  with  a  skill 
which  would  do  honor  to  a  professed  diplomatist ;  it  is  seen 
also  that  he  proposes  himself,  for  the  first  time,  as  ready  to 
put  it  into  execution.  The  prudence  of  M.  de  Vergennes  still 
led  to  a  refusal.  Beaumarchais  wrote  him  a  dozen  letters  of 
a  more  and  more  pressing  character,  which  appeared  to  make 
a  sufficiently  lively  impression  on  his  mind.  M.  de  Vergennes 
no  longer  believed  so  much  in  the  possibiHty  of  preserving 
peace:  "Although  the  tendency  of  France  and  Spain,"  he 
writes  to  our  charge  d'affaires  at  London,  April  20th,  1776, 
"is  toward  insuring  the  duration  of  peace,  I  confess  to  you 
that  I  am  not  at  my  ease  when  I  consider  the  number  of  acci- 
dents, independent  of  the  will  of  the  sovereigns,  which  may 
confound  their  foresight."  The  disquietude  of  the  French 
minister  was  soon  increased  by  the  distrustful  and  vexations 
attitude  of  the  English  government ;  although  France  at  the 
moment  was  still  preserving  the  most  absolute  neutrality,  that 
was  not  sufficient  for  the  cabinet  of  London :  it  claimed  to 
search  our  ships,  to  pursue  the  American  vessels  even  beneath 
the  guns  of  our  forts,  it  interfered  with  our  commerce,  it  main- 
tained that  we  ought  to  punish  those  of  our  merchants  who 
trafficked  with  the  rebels.  Beaumarchais  carefully  took  ad- 
vantage of  these  circumstances  to  support  his  idea.  He  nar- 
rated to  M.  de  Vergennes,  with  much  vivacity,  a  scene  which 
he  had  had  with  Lord  Kochford  on  this  claim  of  the  English 
government  to  have  our  merchants  punished,  and  M.  de  Ver- 
gennes replied  to  him  in  the  following  letter,  in  which  the 
habitual  calmness  of  the  minister  appears  to  undergo  a  slight 
change,  from  contact  with  the  feverish  impetuosity  of  Beau- 
marchais : 

"  Versailles,  April  2G,  17TC. 

"  I  have  laid  before  the  king's  eyes,  sir,  the  letter  you  did  me  the 
honor  to  write  to  me  Tuesday  the  16th,  and  not  the  12th  of  this  month. 
I  have  the  satisfaction  of  announcing  to  you  that  his  majesty  much 
approved  of  the  noble  and  frank  manner  in  which  you  repelled  the 
attack  made  upon  you  by  Lord  Rochford  on  the  subject  of  the  Ameri- 
can vessel  destined,  it  is  said,  for  Nantes,  and  taken  to  Bristol.  You 
said  nothing  which  his  majesty  would  not  have  ordered  you  to  say 


LOKD   KOCHFOKD.  273 

if  he  could  have  foreseen  that  you  would  he  called  upon  to  give  an 
explanation  on  a  point  so  foreign  to  the  duties  with  which  you  are 
charged.*  According  to  Lord  Rochford's  tone,  he  would  seem  to 
base  his  arguments  on  an  agreement  binding  us  to  make  England's 
interest  our  own.  I  am  not  acquainted  with  this  agreement ;  it  does 
not  exist  in  the  example  which  England  gave  us  when  she  thought 
she  could  injure  us.  Let  it  only  be  remembered  what  her  conduct 
was  with  regard  to  us  during  the  troubles  of  Corsica.  1  do  not  cite 
this  example  by  way  of  authorizing  us  to  follow  it.  A  king  faithful 
to  his  principles  of  justice  does  not  seek  to  take  advantage  of  the 
situation  of  the  English  in  order  to  increase  their  embarrassment ; 
but  he  can  not  take  away  from  his  subjects  the  protection  he  owes 
to  their  commerce It  would  be  contrary  to  all  reason  and  pro- 
priety to  pretend  that  we  ought  not  to  sell  any  article  of  commerce 
to  any  person  because  it  would  be  possible  it  might  pass,  at  second 
hand,  into  America." 

After  divers  details,  the  minister  terminates  thus : 

"  Receive  all  my  compliments,  sir.     After  having  assured  you  o€ 
the  king's  approbation,  mine  ought  not  to  appear  to  you  very  inter- 
esting ;  however,  I  can  not  help  applauding  the  wisdom  and  firmness 
of  your  conduct,  and  of  renewing  to  you  the  expression  of  my  esteem. 
"  I  am  very  perfectly,  sir,  &c.,  De  Vergennes." 

It  is  evident  that  the  minister  is  beginning  to  grow  fatigued 
with  the  exigences  of  the  English  cabinet,  and  that  Beaumar- 
chais  and  his  plan  of  secret  assistance  are  making  some  prog- 
ress in  his  opinion.  Beaumarchais  had  not  yet  thought  of 
realizing  this  plan  in  the  form  of  a  commercial  operation,  un- 
dertaken by  him  -with  the  assistance  of  government,  but  at  his 
own  risk.  He  asked  for  three  millions  to  transmit  directly, 
either  in  money  or  in  munitions,  to  the  agents  of  America. 

The  French  ministry  decided  at  last  to  accept  the  proposed 
arrangement,  and  to  cause  it  to  be  accepted  by  the  king ;  how- 
ever, the  prudence  of  M.  de  Vergennes  rejected  it  in  the  form 
suggested,  which  appeared  of  too  compromising  a  character. 
Beaumarchais  was  told  "  that  the  operation  must  essentially, 
in  the  eyes  of  the  English  government,  and  even  in  the  eyes 
of  the  Americans,  have  the  appearance  of  an  individual  specu- 
lation, to  which  the  French  ministers  are  strangers.     That  it 

*  The  ostensible  mission  of  Beaumarchais  was  at  this  moment  to  col- 
lect Spanish  piastres  at  London  for  the  senice  of  our  colonies. 

M2 


274  BEAUMAKCHAIS   AND   HIS   TIMES. 

may  be  so  in  appearance,  it  must  also  be  so,  to  a  certain  point, 
in  reality.  We  will  give  a  million  secretly,  we  will  try  to  in- 
duce the  court  of  Spain  to  unite  with  us  in  this  affair,  and  sup- 
ply you  on  its  side  with  an  equal  sum ;  with  these  two  mill- 
ions and  the  co-operation  of  individuals  who  wUl  be  willing  to 
take  part  in  your  enterprise,  you  will  be  able  to  found  a  large 
house  of  commerce,  and  at  your  own  risk  can  supply  America 
with  arms,  ammunition,  articles  of  equipment,  and  all  other  ar- 
ticles necessary  for  keeping  up  the  war.  Our  arsenals  will 
give  you  arms  and  ammunition,  but  you  shall  replace  them  or 
shall  pay  for  them.  You  shall  ask  for  no  money  from  the 
Americans,  as  they  have  none-;  but  you  shall  ask  them  for  re- 
turns in  products  of  their  soil,  and  we  help  you  to  get  rid  of 
them  in  this  countrj^,  while  you  shall  grant  them,  on  your  side, 
every  facility  possible.  In  a  word,  the  operation,  after  being 
secretly  supported  by  us  at  the  commencement,  must  afterward 
feed  and  support  itself;  but,  on  the  other  side,  as  we  reserve 
to  ourselves  the  right  of  favoring  or  discouraging  it,  accord- 
ing to  the  requirements  of  our  policy,  you  shall  render  us  an 
account  of  your  profits  and  your  losses,  and  we  will  judge 
whether  we  are  to  accord  you  fresh  assistance,  or  give  you  an 
acquittal  for  the  sums  previously  granted." 

Such,  as  we  show  farther  on,  was  the  true  physiognomy  of 
this  operation,  which  was  at  once  political  and  commercial. 
It  certainly  presented  advantages  for  Beaumarchais,  but  it  also 
offered  many  dangers ;  for,  in  addition  to  this  first  investment 
of  two  millions,  it  was  necessary  to  collect  money  from  private 
speculators,  to  risk  it  in  a  very  hazardous  affair,  which  might 
swallow  up  every  thing,  and  swallow  up,  at  the  same  time,  the 
personal  fortune  of  the  minister's  agent.  Beaumarchais,  in 
fact,  once  engaged  in  so  vast  an  enterprise  (his  first  cargo  alone 
came  to  more  than  three  millions),  had  to  put  the  following 
questions  to  himself:  "What  will  become  of  my  operation  if 
my  vessels  are  taken  by  the  English  cruisers  ?  What  wiU  be- 
come of  it  if  the  government,  frightened  by  the  threats  of  the 
English  diplomatists,  not  only  abandon,  but  sacrifice  me  ?  What 
will  become  of  it,  finally,  if  the  Americans  are  conquered,  or  if, 
after  receiving  my  cargoes,  they  consider  themselves  at  liberty 
to  send  nothing  in  return  ?     Such  prospects  might  have  made 


THE   MIXISTRY's    FIRST    GRAJvT.  275 

another  man  hesitate ;  but  the  reader  already  knows  that  the 
author  of  "  The  Barber  of  Seville"  was  not  afraid  of  difficul- 
ties. He  threw  himself  into  this  one  with  his  ordinary  intre- 
pidity, and  on  the  10th  June,  177G,  a  month  before  the  United 
States  published  their  declaration  of  independence,  he  signed 
that  famous  receipt  which,  kept  secret  under  the  Monarchy, 
and  given  to  the  United  States  in  1794  under  the  Republic, 
occasioned  a  lawsuit  of  fifty  years'  duration,  to  which  we  shall 
return.     It  is  conceived  in  the  following  terms : 

"  I  have  received  from  M.  Duvergier,  conformably  to  the  orders 
of  the  Count  de  Vergennes,  dated  the  5th  instant,  which  I  have  re- 
mitted to  him,  the  sum  of  one  million,  of  which  I  will  render  account 
to  the  said  Count  de  Vergennes. 

"  Caron  de  Beaumarchais. 

"  Received  one  million  livres  toumois. 

"Paris,  June  10,  17T6." 

Two  months  afterward  the  court  of  Spain  decided  to  con- 
tribute the  sum  of  a  million  to  the  operation  directed  by  Beau- 
marchais, But,  in  order  that  this  subvention  might  be  kept 
secret,  the  Spanish  million,  before  reaching  the  hands  of  the 
author  of  "  The  Barber  of  Seville,"  had  to  make  a  little  cir- 
cuit. The  Spanish  embassador  paid  it  into  the  public  treasury 
of  France,  and  took  an  acknowledgment  for  it  from  the  cash- 
ier; he  remitted  this  acknowledgment  to  M.  de  Vergennes, 
and  the  latter  gave  it  to  Beaumarchais  in  exchange  for  the 
following  receipt,  which  I  quote  literally  from  the  original  in 
the  Archives  of  Foreign  Affairs : 

"  I  have  received  from  his  excellency  M.  le  Comte  de  Vergennes 
an  acknowledgment  for  the  million  livres  tournois  which  M.  Duver- 
gier had  given  to  the  Spanish  embassador,  with  which  acknowledg- 
ment I  shall  touch,  at  the  royal  treasury,  the  said  sum  of  a  million 
tournois,  for  the  employment  of  which  I  will  render  an  account  to  his 
said  excellency  M.  le  Comte  de  Vergennes. 

"Caron  de  Beaumarchais. 

"At  Versailles,  Aug.  11, 1776." 

Beginning  at  this  day,  the  part  of  Beaumarchais  in  the 
American  affair  changes  its  nature.  He  passes  from  the  po- 
sition of  an  observer  and  instigator  to  that  of  an  actor.  He 
no  longer  merely  writes  Memorials :  he  sends  off  cargoes,  com- 
bats against  the  winds,  the  waves,  the  English,  and  the  hesi- 


276  BEArJIAECUAIS   AND   UlS   TEUES. 

tations  of  the  ministry ;  and  when,  by  the  very  effect  of  his 
operations,  war  breaks  out  at  length  between  France  and  En- 
gland, he  figures  brilliantly  in  it  with  his  navy.  But,  in  order 
to  understand  the  unexpected  difficulties  with  which  he  is 
obliged  to  meet  in  his  relations  with  the  Congress  of  the  United 
States,  we  must  first  of  aU  retrace  our  steps  for  a  moment,  and 
say  a  Avord  about  an  American  who  exercised  a  disastrous  in- 
fluence on  this  epoch  of  Beaumarchais'  life. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

Arthur  Lee.  —  Chances  of  a  "War  with  -England. — Dr.  Dubourg  and 
Beaumarchais'  "Young  Ladies." — Roderigue  Hortalez  and  Co. — 
Franklin  and  the  American  Deputation. — Beaumarchais'  Agent  in 
America. 

It  will  be  remembered  that  Beaumarchais,  when  eagerly 
endeavoring  to  prevail  upon  Louis  XVI.  to  help  the  Ameri- 
cans secretly,  did  not,  at  first,  think  of  undertaking  the  opera- 
tion at  his  own  risk  and  peril,  without  the  assistance  of  the 
ministry.  He  only  offered  to  transmit,  himself,  to  the  agents 
of  America  (having  assured  himself  of  their  discretion),  the  aid 
which  the  French  government  was  willing  to  give  to  the  in- 
surgents. He  had  communicated  this,  his  first  idea,  to  an 
American  who  was  in  London  in  1775,  and  whom  he  had  met 
at  the  house  of  Wilkes.  This  was  a  young  Virginian  named 
Arthur  Lee,  young,  and  then  unknown,  who  was  studying  law 
in  England  when  the  Ameiican  Revolution  broke  out,  and 
who  was  afterward  a  member  of  the  deputation  from  the 
United  States  to  Paris,  and  at  a  later  period  a  member  of 
Congress.  One  of  the  most  esteemed  writers  of  America,  the 
only  one  who,  to  my  knowledge,  has  sketched  the  relations  be- 
tween Beaumarchais  and  Arthur  Lee  with  accuracy,  Mr.  Jared 
Sparks,  paints  the  character  of  the  latter  in  the  following  man- 
ner :  "  He  deserved,"  he  says,  "  consideration  for  his  natural 
and  acquired  talents.  He  was  a  good  writer,  and  defended  the 
cause  of  his  country  with  ardor  and  perseverance,  but  his  dis- 
position was  restless  and  violent.  Jealous  of  his  rivals,  dis- 
trustful of  every  one,  he  entangled  himself,  and  all  those  con- 


ARTHUR   LEE.       *  277 

nected  with  him,  in  a  succession  of  disputes  and  difficulties."* 
We  must  add  to  this  portrait  that  Arthur  Lee  was  devoured  by 
ambition,  and  always  disposed  to  make  much  of  himself  at  the 
expense  of  others.  His  correspondence  with  the  secret  com- 
mittee of  the  Congress,  at  the  time  when  he  formed  part  of 
the  American  deputation  in  France  with  Silas  Deane  and 
Franklin,  is  but  a  series  of  bitter  and  often  most  insulting  in- 
sinuations against  his  two  colleagues.  It  was  not  his  fault 
that  Franklin  especially  did  not  pass  for  a  thief,  and  that 
America  did  not  believe  that  it  was  Arthur  Lee  alone  who  had 
decided  the  alliance  between  the  United  States  and  France. 
We  have  before  our  eyes  a  biography  of  Arthur  Lee,  in  two 
volumes,  the  author  of  which,  who  without  doubt  is  related  to 
the  American  negotiator,  for  he  bears  the  same  name,!  seems 
to  adopt  this  opinion  with  good  faith,  which  is  doubtless  en- 
titled to  much  respect,  although  founded  on  very  inaccurate 
information.  Having  had  occasion  to  study  closely  the  works 
of  the  American  deputation  at  Paris,  we  can  affirm  that  Ar- 
thur Lee's  assistance  was  very  insignificant,  that  he  had  no 
credit  with  the  French  government,  which  suspected  him,  ei- 
ther rightly  or  wrongly,  of  having  secret  connections  with  the 
English  government,  that  he  really  played  in  connection  with 
it  the  part  of  the  fly  in  the  fable  of  "La  Mouche  du  Coche." 
This  perfectly  explains  his  permanent  irritation  against  his 
two  colleagues. 

Such  was  the  man  whom  Beaumarchais  met  in  London  at 
the  end  of  1775,  and  whom  he  informed  of  his  endeavors  with 
Louis  XVI.  and  his  ministers  to  obtain  secret  assistance  for 
the  Americans.  Charmed  to  find  an  opportunity  of  assuming 
importance,  Arthur  Lee  wrote  immediately  to  the  secret  com- 
mittee of  the  Congress  that,  "in  consequence  of  his  active  en- 
deavors with  the  embassador  of  France  at  London,  M.  de  Vergen- 
nes  had  sent  to  him,  Arthur  Lee,  a  secret  agent,  to  inform  him  that 
the  court  of  France  could  not  think  of  making  war  against 
England,  but  was  ready  to  send  arms  and  ammunition  to  the 
value  of  five  millions  to  Cape  Frangais,  to  be  forwarded  to  the 
United  States."    There  was  not  a  word  of  truth  in  this  infor- 

*  "  Life  of  Benjamin  Franklin,"  by  Jared  Sparks,  p.  447. 

t  "Life  of  Arthur  Lee,"  by  Eichard  Henry  Lee.     Boston,  1829. 


278  BEAUMARCHAIS    AND    HIS   TI>IES. 

mation.  M.  de  Vergennes  had  sent  no  agent  to  Arthur  Lee 
to  make  him  promises  of  this  kind.  Beaumarchais  had  seen 
him  at  the  house  of  Wilkes,  and  had  spoken  to  him  of  his 
plans,  his  hopes,  and  of  the  Memorials  he  was  addressing  to 
the  French  government. 

Arthur  Lee,  to  give  himself  importance  in  the  eyes  of  Con- 
gress, had  completely  changed  the  nature  of  this  conversation, 
and  the  proof  that  the  invention  came  from  him,  and  not  from 
Beaumarchais  is,  that  at  the  very  moment  when  this  latter 
was  soliciting  in  vain,  from  this  secret,  aid  from  M.  de  Ver- 
gennes, joining  to  his  entreaties  those  of  Arthur  Lee,  who  de- 
clared himself  ready  to  come  to  Paris  if  the  minister  desired 
it.  The  strange  exaggerations  of  the  young  American  had 
naturally  made  a  lively  impression  on  the  secret  committee  of 
the  Congress.  It  was  the  first  news  of  the  kind  which  arrived 
in  America ;  so,  it  was  concluded  that  Arthur  Lee  was  a  very 
clever  negotiator,  and  as,  just  before  the  receipt  of  this  news, 
the  committee  had  just  sent  a  private  agent,  Silas  Deane,  to 
France,  to  request  the  very  assistance  which  Arthur  Lee  as- 
sured them  was  already  promised,  it  intended  to  make  the  lat- 
ter a  joint  agent  with  the  former. 

In  the  mean  time  Beaumarchais  continued  his  solicitations 
to  M.  de  Vergennes,  who  not  only  had  promised  nothing,  but 
always  refused.  The  colonies'  chances  of  triumph  were  still 
too  uncertain  to  justify  the  risk  of  a  war  with  England — a 
war  which  would  necessarily  result,  if  through  any  indiscre- 
tion of  the  Americans  it  was  divulged  that  this  assistance  had 
been  given  them.  How  was  this  danger  to  be  guarded  against  ? 
We  have  seen  that  Beaumarchais  proposed  several  means  in 
his  Memorials  to  the  king.  The  surest  seemed  to  be  to  change 
the  appearance  of  the  operation,  by  concealing  from  the  in- 
surgents themselves  the  source  of  the  assistance  they  received, 
and  instead  of  giving  them  aid  gratuitously,  to  assist  in  secret 
several  commercial  houses,*  which  would  thus  be  enabled  to 

*  A  letter  from  M.  de  Vergennes  to  Louis  XVI.,  a  letter  from  Lonis 
XVI.  to  the  King  of  Spain,  published  in  M.  de  Flassan's  "  Histoire  de 
la  Diplomatie  rran9aise,"  and  some  other  documents  found  among 
Beaumarchais'  papers,  induce  me  to  think  that  different  merchants  did 
in  fact  receive  subventions  like  Beaumarchais,  and  for  the  same  end. 


BEAUMAKCHAI3  AND  THE  CONGRESS.        279 

send  them  stores,  allowing  them  to  be  paid  for  in  kind,  and 
at  the  same  time  supporting  all  the  losses  the  English  cruisers 
might  inflict  on  this  prohibited  description  of  commerce.  Who 
can  not  understand,  indeed,  that  from  the  day  when  the  cab- 
inet of  Versailles,  following  the  example  given  it  by  England, 
both  in  the  war  with  Corsica  and  in  our  civil  wars  of  the  six- 
teenth century,  decided  to  assist  the  insurgents  in  this  indirect 
mode,  in  order  to  avoid  war,  it  was  natural  for  it  not  only  to 
allow,  but  to  desire  that  the  assistance  should  not  be  furnished 
gratuitously  ?  Such  gratuitous  assistance  would  have  mani- 
festly revealed  this  co-operation  to  England. 

When  Beaumarchais  returned  from  London  to  Paris,  he 
kept  up  a  correspondence  with  Arthur  Lee  in  ciphers.  When 
it  had  been  agreed  between  M.  de  Vergennes  and  himself  that 
the  affair  should  bear  a  strictly  private  and  commercial  char- 
acter, and  that  the  participation  of  government  should  be  care- 
fully concealed  from  the  Americans  themselves,  Beaumarchais, 
in  conformance  with  ministerial  instructions,  wrote  the  follow- 
ing note  to  Arthur  Lee,  in  London,  June  12,  1776  : 

"  The  difficulties  I  have  met  with  in  my  negotiations  with  the  min- 
istry have  made  me  decide  io  form  a  company,  which  will  send  the 
ammunition  and  powder  to  your  friend  as  soon  as  possible,  in  con- 
sideration of  tobacco  being  sent  in  return  to  the  French  cape." 

L'pon  this,  Silas  Deane,  the  American  agent,  sent  direct  to 
France  by  the  Congress,  arrived.  As  he  alone  was  furnished 
by  the  Congress  with  power  to  treat  in  their  name,  Beaumar- 
chais made  his  agreements  with  him,  and  did  not  write  again 
to  Arthur  Lee.  The  latter  had  relied  upon  this  affair  to  make 
himself  popular  in  America.  "  He  hoped,"  says  the  author 
of  the  "  Life  of  Franklin,"  "  to  play  the  principal  part  in  the 
enterprise.  On  hearing  that  it  was  passing  into  the  hands  of 
Mr.  Deane,  he  hurried  to  Paris,  accused  Deane  of  interfering 
in  his  affairs,  tried  to  cause  a  quarrel  between  him  and  Beau- 
marchais, and,  not  being  able  to  succeed,  returned  to  London 
vexed  at  his  failure  and  furious  with  Deane."*  To  this  very 
exact  account  of  Mr.  Jared  Sparks'  we  must  add,  that  he  was 
not  less  furious  with  Beaumarchais  than  with  Deane.  In  or- 
der to  avenge  himself  on  both,  he  wrote  without  their  knowl- 
*  "  Life  of  Franklin,"  by  J.  Sparks,  p.  449. 


280  BEAIJMAECUAIS    AND    HIS    TIJIES. 

edge  to  the  secret  committee  of  the  Congress  that  the  two 
had  agreed  to  deceive  both  the  French  government  and  the 
United  States  by  changing  what  the  ministry  meant  to  be  a 
gratuitous  gift  into  a  commercial  transaction.  It  was  this  in- 
sidious story  of  Arthur  Lee's  which  caused  all  the  trouble  be- 
tween Beaumarchais  and  the  Congress.  We  shall  soon  see 
M.  de  Vergennes  himself  speaking  very  pointedly  on  the  sub- 
ject ;  but  as  his  official  answer,  at  the  time  when  it  was  ad- 
dressed to  the  Congress,  might  be  looked  upon  as  dictated  by 
political  expediency,  we  ought,  in  exhibiting  the  arrangements 
made  between  Silas  Deane  and  Beaumarchais,  under  the  very 
eyes  of  the  minister,  to  endeavor  to  discover  the  real  inten- 
tions of  the  latter  in  an  affair  about  which,  owing  to  its  very 
secrecy,  he  has  naturally  left  but  few  documents  in  his  own 
handwriting. 

A  first  proof  of  the  falseness  of  the  assertions  made  by  Ar- 
thur Lee  is  given  us  by  one  of  those  rather  comic  incidents 
which,  in  the  life  of  the  author  of  "The  Barber  of  Seville,"  are 
always  mixed  up  with  the  most  serious  things,  and  which  we 
must  relate  because  it  tends  to  support  our  theory.  When 
Silas  Deane,  the  first  agent  of  the  Congress,  arrived  in  Paris, 
in  July,  1776,  Beaumarchais,  although  the  most  ardent,  was 
not  the  only  advocate  the  insurgents  had  with  the  minister. 
An  old  physician,  named  Dubourg,  who  understood  botany 
very  well,  who  had  formerly  been  intimate  vnth  Franklin  in 
England,  and  who  was  very  active  in  the  cause  of  the  Amer- 
icans, rivaled  him  in  zeal.  Franklin,  before  being  sent  him- 
self to  France,  had  sent  Silas  Deane  to  Dr.  Dubourg.  This 
doctor,  in  whom  ]\L  de  Vergennes  placed  much  trust,  had  been 
confidentially  informed  of  the  intentions  of  the  minister  to 
give  his  assistance  secretly  to  different  commercial  enterprises 
which  were  to  send  provisions  to  the  Americans,  and  he  was 
in  hopes  that  he  and  some  friends  would  be  chosen  to  direct 
an  enterprise  of  this  kind,  when  he  heard  that  the  minister, 
who  was  apparently  more  convinced  of  Beaumarchais'  ability 
than  of  his,  had  given  him  the  preference. 

Vexed  at  being  supplanted  by  the  author  of  "  The  Barber 
of  Seville,"  the  old  doctor  wrote  the  following  letter  to  M.  de 
Vergennes : 


DR.    DUBOURG.  281 

"  Monseigneur, — I  saw  M.  de  Beaumarchais  this  morning,  and  I 
willingly  conferred  with  him  without  reserve.  Every  body  is  ac- 
quainted with  his  ability,  and  no  one  does  more  justice  than  I  to  his 
rectitude,  his  discretion,  and  his  zeal  for  all  that  is  good  and  great. 
I  believe  him  to  be  one  of  the  most  fit  men  in  the  world  for  political 
negotiations,  but  perhaps,  at  the  same  time,  one  of  the  least  fitted  for 
negotiating  in  a  mercantile  sense.  He  likes  splendor ;  it  is  asserted 
that  he  maintains  young  ladies  at  his  expense ;  in  short,  he  passes 
for  a  prodigal ;  and  in  France,  there  is  no  merchant  nor  manufac- 
turer icho  is  not  of  this  opinion,  and  who  would  not  hesitate  very 
much  to  transact  the  least  business  with  him.  For  this  reason,  I 
was  much  surprised  to  hear  that  you  had  not  only  commissioned  him 
to  assist  us  with  his  intelligence,  but  that  you  have  concentrated  in 
him  the  entire  and  particular  direction  of  all  the  commerce,  exports 
as  well  as  imports,  cither  of  munitions  of  war,  or  of  the  usual  prod- 
ucts of  France  to  the  United  Colojiics  and  of  the  Colonies  to 
France ;  the  direction  of  all  business,  the  arrangement  of  prices, 
the  conclusion  of  all  tr-eaties,  the  making  of  all  engagements,  djfc. 
I  agreed  with  him  that  the  advantage  of  having  all  these  afl^airs  man- 
aged a  little  more  secretly  might  be  the  result ;  but  I  represented  to 
him  that  in  taking  all  this  immense  trafiic  upon  himself,  and  by  ex- 
cluding people  who  had  gone  to  much  expense,  suffered  so  much  fa- 
tigue, and  run  so  many  dangers  during  the  year  for  the  service  of  the 
Congress,  he  would  be  giving  them  cause  to  accuse  him  of  monopoly ; 
he  told  me  it  could  not  possibly  injure  them,  and  used  all  his  elo- 
quence to  prove  this  to  me.  I  acknowledge  that  these  private  mo- 
tives would  not  alone  be  sufficient  to  weigh  against  the  secrecy  nec- 
essary for  such  a  critical  position ;  but  I  must  be  allowed  to  think 
that  there  are  other  if  not  better  means  of  insuring  this  important 
secret.  There  may  be  a  hundred,  there  may  be  a  thousand  persons 
in  France,  who,  with  talents  very  inferior  to  those  of  M.  de  Beau- 
marchais, could  accomplish  your  wishes  better  by  inspiring  all  those 
with  whom  they  may  have  to  treat  with  more  confidence." 

Before  relating  how  the  author  of  "  The  Barber  of  Seville" 
refuted  the  old  doctor's  accusations,  we  must  observe  how  uu- 
portant  this  letter  is  as  throwing  light  upon  a  question  w'aich 
it  was  rather  difficult  to  penetrate,  and  which  has  given  rise 
to  the  most  bitter  disputes  in  the  United  States. 

This  letter,  which  proves  that  Dr.  Dubourg  was  acquainted 
with  the  minister's  intentions,  also  proves  clearly,  by  the  pas- 
sages in  italics,  that  in  granting  secret  aid  to  the  commercial 
company  founded  by  Beaumarchais,  M.  de  Vergemies  did  not 


282  BEAtJMARCHAIS   AND   HIS   TIMES. 

intend  that  the  operations  of  this  house  should  only  have  a 
fictitious  commercial  character.  It  proves,  in  fine,  that  there 
was  an  intention  of  assisting  several  real  merchants ;  it  also 
proves  that  the  minister  thought  the  enterprise  would  support 
itself  with  the  money  of  traders,  and  that  it  would  be  kept  up 
by  the  profits  resulting  from  the  returns  in  kind,  on  which 
Beaumarchais  had  a  right  to  count,  according  to  the  formal 
engagements  entered  into  by  the  agent  of  the  Congress. 

We  must  now  describe  the  effect  produced  by  Dr.  Dubourg's 
accusing  Beaumarchais  to  M.  de  Vergennes  of  keeping  ladies 
in  his  house.  The  minister,  notwithstanding  his  gravity, 
thought  it  would  be  a  joke  to  send  the  doctor's  letter  to  Beau- 
marchais, who,  without  doubt,  to  amuse  M.  de  Vergennes, 
sent  him  a  copy  of  his  answer  to  Dr.  Dubourg.  It  was  con- 
ceived in  the  following  terms : 

"Tuesday,  IGth  July,  17T6. 

"  Till  M.  le  Comte  de  Vergennes  showed  me  your  letter  to  him, 
sir,  I  found  it  impossible  to  understand  the  one  with  which  you  had 
honored  me.  I  could  not  conceive  what  was  meant  by  the  gentle- 
man who  will  not  and  can  not  undertake  any  thing  with  me*  I 
very  well  understand  now  that  you  wished  to  give  yourself  time  to 
write  to  the  minister  about  me  ;  but,  in  order  to  receive  true  informa- 
tion, was  it  necessary  to  give  him  false  ?  How  does  it  affect  our 
business  if  I  like  pomp  and  splendor,  and  maintain  young  ladies  in 
my  house  ?  The  ladies  in  my  house,  who  have  been  there  for  twenty 
years,  sir,  are  your  very  humble  servants.  They  were  five  in  num- 
ber, four  sisters  and  a  niece.  During  the  last  three  years  two  of 
these  girls  have  died,  to  my  great  sorrow.  I  now  only  keep  three, 
two  sisters  and  my  niece,  which  is,  however,  display  enough  for  a 
private  individual  hke  myself.  But  what  would  you  have  thought  if, 
knowing  me  better,  you  had  been  aware  that  I  carried  the  scandal  so 
far  as  to  keep  men  too — two  nephews,  very  young  and  rather  good- 
looking,  and  even  the  miserable  father  who  brought  such  a  scandal- 
ous person  into  the  world  ?f    As  for  my  love  of  splendor,  that  is  much 

*  This  passage  alludes  to  Silas  Deane,  who  had  just  arrived,  and 
whom  Beaumarchais  had  not  yet  seen,  because  Dr.  Dubourg  had  dis- 
suaded him  from  associating  with  him. 

+  This  answer  of  Beaumarchais  was,  it  appears,  very  successful  in 

the  family,  for  I  find  Julie  taking  up  the  subject,  and  writing  to  her 

brother  a  letter  which  commences  thus :  "  Monsieur  rentreteneur,  I  feel 

~  myself  compelled  to  tell  you  that  your  letter  to  the  doctor  has  made 

quite  a  hit  among  us  ;  the  girls  you  keep  are  '  your  very  humble  sen'- 


RODEBIGUE  HORTALEZ  AND  CO.  283 

worse.  For  three  years  I  have  considered  lace  and  embroidered 
clothes  too  mean  for  my  vanity,  and  have  been  proud  enough  to  have 
my  wrists  ornamented  with  the  finest  plain  muslin.  The  most  su- 
perb black  cloth  is  not  too  splendid  for  me,  and  I  have  sometimes 
carried  my  love  of  dress  so  far  as  to  wear  silk  when  it  is  very  warm ; 
but  I  beg  of  you,  sir,  not  to  tell  this  to  M.  de  Vergennes  ;  you  would 
quite  ruin  me  in  his  opinion.  You  had  your  reasons  for  writing 
against  me  to  him  without  knowing  me,  I  have  mine  for  not  being 
offended,  although  I  have  the  honor  of  knowing  you.  You  are,  sir, 
a  good  man,  so  inflamed  with  the  desire  of  doing  much  good  that  you 
consider  yourself  entitled  to  do  a  little  mischief  in  order  to  succeed. 
This  is  not  exactly  the  moral  of  the  Gospel,  but  I  have  known  many 
people  adopt  it.  It  was  in  this  sense  that,  in  order  to  convert  hea- 
thens, the  Fathers  of  the  Church  allowed  themselves  to  make  quota- 
tions of  doubtful  authenticity,  holy  calumnies  which  they  named  pious 
rrauds  among  themselves.  But  an  end  to  joking.  I  am  not  out  of 
temper,  because  M.  de  Vergennes  is  not  a  small-minded  man,  and  I 
can  rely  upon  his  answer.  Let  those  whom  I  ask  for  advances  in 
business  mistrust  me  ;  I  consent  to  it ;  but  let  those  who  are  animated 
by  true  zeal  for  the  common  friends  whose  interests  are  at  stake 
think  twice  before  forsaking  an  honorable  man  who  offers  to  render 
every  service,  and  to  make  every  advance  which  would  be  useful  to 
those  friends.     Do  you  now  understand  me,  sir  1 

"  I  shall  have  the  honor  of  seeing  you  this  afternoon  sufBciently  ear- 
ly to  find  you  all  together.  I  have  also  that  of  being,  with  the  great- 
est respect,  sir,  your  very  humble  and  obedient  servant,  well  known 
under  the  name  o(  Roderigue  Hortalez  and  Company.''''* 

ants,'  but  on  condition  of  your  increasing  their  allowance ;"  and,  after 
developing  this  idea,  Julie  concludes,  as  usual,  with  some  verses,  which 
are  more  lively  than  poetical,  such  as  she  took  a  pleasure  in  introduc- 
ing into  every  thing  she  wrote : 

"  For  if  you  will  believe  us, 
You  will  much  increase  the  glory 
Of  the  favors  with  which  you  load  us, 
By  doubling  the  sum  you  allow  us. 
"  I  am  in  expectation  of  this  wished-for  moment,  Monsieur  I'entre- 
teneur.  Yours,  &c.,  Julie  B." 

It  is  probable  that  Julie  gained  an  increased  allowance  through  the 
doctor's  letter. 

*  Dr.  Duboiu*g  always  had  a  spite  against  Beaomarchais  on  account 
of  the  preference  shown  him  by  M.  de  Vergennes,  and  as  he  was  very 
intimate  with  Franklin  when  the  latter  rejoined  Silas  Deane  in  France, 
the  doctor  set  him  against  Beaumarchais,  which  was  a  new  obstacle  in 
addition  to  all  those  which  already  crossed  his  path.    But  the  doctor 


284  BEAUMARCHAIS  AND    HIS   TIMES. 

Spain  having  already  brought  good  fortune  to  the  author 
of  "  The  Barber  of  Seville,"  it  was  under  the  name  of  "  Kod- 
erigue  Hortalez  &  Co.,"  which  was  intended  to  mislead  the 
English  embassador,  that  Beaumarchais  concealed  the  fact 
that  he  was  secretly  assisted  by  the  court  of  France.  Not- 
withstanding the  disinclination  of  Dr.  Dubourg,  Beaumarchais 
and  Silas  Deane  came  together  at  last.  The  agent  of  the 
Congress  had  been  secretly  presented  by  this  same  Dr.  Du- 
bourg to  M.  de  Vergennes,  on  the  17th  of  July,  1776.  The 
position  of  the  rebellious  colonies  was  at  this  time  very  critical. 
They  struggled  with  courage,  but  they  had  exhausted  the 
ruinous  resource  of  paper  money.  They  were  in  want  of 
arms  and  ammunition,  their  troops  were  half  naked,  while 
England,  resolved  to  sacrifice  every  thing  to  crush  the  re- 
bellion, had  sent  General  Howe  with  considerable  re-enforce- 
ments to  America.  The  American  troops  had  lost  several 
battles,  and  the  Congress  itself  was  on  the  point  of  being 
driven  from  Philadelphia,  which  was  occupied  by  the  English, 
to  take  refuge  in  Baltimore.  The  next  campaign  was  to  be 
decisive ;  and  it  was  generally  supposed  in  Europe  that  the 
Americans  would  be  crushed.  In  this  state  of  affairs,  the 
Congress  sent  Silas  Deane  to  Paris,  to  try  and  obtain,  on 
credit  from  the  government  or  from  private  individuals,  two 
hundred  cannons,  arms,  ammunition,  and  clothing,  and  tents 
for  25,000  men.  M.  de  Vergennes  naturally  gave  a  formal 
refusal  to  the  agent  of  the  Congress,  founded  upon  the  pacific 
relations  between  France  and  England.  But  he  directed  him 
to  go  to  Beaumarchais,  describing  him  as  a  merchant  who 
might  perhaps  assist  him  on  reasonable  terms.  The  next  day 
Beaumarchais  wrote  the  following  letter  to  Silas  Deane : 

"  Paris,  18th  July,  1776. 

"  I  do  not  know,  sir,  whether  you  have  any  trustworthy  person 

with  you  to  translate  French  letters  on  important  business.     For 

my  part,  I  shall  not  be  able  to  correspond  with  j'ou  in  English  till 

the  arrival  of  a  person  whom  I  expect  from  London,  and  who  will 

was  punished  for  his  jealousy,  for,  not  being  able  to  obtain  the  co-opera- 
tion of  the  ministry  in  his  commercial  projects,  he  fitted  out  a  little  ship 
on  his  own  account.  This  ship  w.is  taken  and  confiscated  by  the  En- 
glish, who  awarded  the  doctor's  little  property  to  themselves  gratis. 


SILAS    DEANE.  285 

interpret  for  us.*  Meanwhile,  I  have  the  honor  of  informing  you 
that  some  time  ago  I  formed  the  project  of  assisting  the  brave 
Americans  to  throw  off  the  English  yoke.  I  have  tried  several 
means  of  opening  a  safe  and  secret  correspondence  between  the 
Congress  and  a  house  of  business  which  I  am  about  to  form,  for  the 
purpose  of  providing  the  Americans  with  those  things  which  they  re- 
quire, and  can  not  obtain  from  England.  I  have  already  mentioned 
my  plan  to  a  gentlemanf  in  London,  who  professes  to  be  much  attach- 
ed to  America ;  but  as  our  correspondence  has  been  continued  with 
difficulty  and  in  cipher,  1  have  received  no  answer  to  my  last  letter, 
in  which  I  settled  a  few  points  in  this  great  and  important  affair. 
Since  you  are  endowed  with  a  disposition,  sir,  in  which  I  can  place 
confidence,  I  shall  be  happy  to  renew,  in  a  more  certain  and  regular 
manner,  a  negotiation  which  has  only  begun  to  bud  as  yet.  My 
means  are  not  at  present  very  considerable,  but  they  will  increase 
very  much  if  we  can  arrange  a  treaty  together,  the  conditions  of 
which  are  honorable  and  advantageous,  and  the  fulfillment  exact. 
"  I  have  the  honor  to  be,  sir,  yours,  &c., 

"  Caron  de  Beaumarchais."J 
It  will  be  seen  that  fromthe  very  beginning  of  the  transac- 
tions between  Beaumarchais  and  the  agent  of  the  Congress, 
there  was  no  ambiguity  about  the  nature  of  the  affair.  It  was 
not  a  gift  which  Beaumarchais  was  to  make,  but  a  commercial^ 
treaty,  which  was  to  be  strictly  fulfilled.  However,  as  it 
would  have  been  too  great  a  chance  for  any  real  merchant  to 
undertake  this  action  at  his  sole  risk  and  peril,  and  as  the 
author  of  "  TJie  Barber  of  Seville"  was  not  a  merchant  by  pro- 
fession, it  was  not  difficult  for  Silas  Deane  to  suspect,  even  if 
he  had  not  known  it  from  Dr.  Dubourg,  that  the  man  to  whom 
he  was  desired  to  address  himself  was  more  or  less  upheld  by 
the  ministry.     While  recognizing  Beaumarchais,  then,  to  be 

*  Silas  Deanc  knew  very  little  French ;  all  his  letters,  both  to  the 
ministers  and  to  Beaumarchais,  are  written  in  English,  and  Beaumar- 
chais, although  he  had  lived  in  England,  knew  nothing  of  English  but 
the  celebrated  word  which  he  has  given  in  "The  Marriage  of  Figaro" 
as  the  foundation  of  the  language. 

t  It  will  be  understood  that  the  gentleman  in  question  was  Arthtu" 
Lee, 

X  Not  having  been  able  to  find  among  Beaumarchais'  papers  this  first 
letter  of  his,  which  is  important  for  all  that  follows,  I  have  been  obliged 
to  reproduce  it,  as  exactly  as  possible,  from  an  English  translation, 
which  is  among  the  doctunents  given  to  the  Congress  of  the  United 
States  bv  Siliis  Deaue. 


286  BEAUMARCHAIS   AND    HIS    TIMES. 

what  he  was  represented  to  be,  that  is  to  say,  a  trader  acting 
in  his  name,  he  was  (in  the  absence  of  the  guilty  connivance 
of  which  Arthur  Lee  very  unjustly  accused  him)  to  keep  the 
ministry  informed  of  all  the  engagements  which  this  merchant 
desired  him  to  make.  And  he  did  so,  as  is  proved  by  the  fol- 
lowing letter,  written  by  Silas  Deane,  under  the  date  of  July 
19,  1776,  to  the  confidential  secretary  of  M.  de  Vergennes, 
M.  Gerard,  afterward  embassador  from  France  to  the  United 
States,  and  then  First  Commissioner  of  Foreign  Affairs.  This 
letter  proves  that  Silas  Deane  informed  M.  Gerard  of  the  first 
letter  of  M.  de  Beaumarchais,  whom  he  had  not  seen,  and 
asked  his  advice  as  to  what  he  should  do.  "  I  have  not  yet 
had  the  pleasure  of  seeing  M.  de  Beaumarchais,"  writes  Silas 
Deane  to  M.  Gerard,  "  but  I  am  quite  confident,  from  what 
you  have  told  me  of  him,  that  he  will  be  able  to  procure  the 
things  I  require,  and  that  I  ought  to  address  myself  to  him  in 
preference  to  any  one  else.  I  think  he  would  provide  me  with 
every  thing  mentioned  in  my  instructions  with  the  greatest 
secrecy  and  certainty."  The  same  day  the  first  conference 
took  place  between  Beaumarchais  and  the  agent  of  the  Con- 
gress, for  the  next  day  Silas  Deane  wrote  the  following  letter 
to  Beaumarchais : 

"  Paris,  Hotel  Grand-Villars,  20th  July,  1776. 

"  Monsieur, — In  conformance  with  your  request  at  our  interview 
yesterday,  I  inclose  you  a  copy  of  my  commission  and  an  extract 
from  my  instructions,  which  will  prove  to  you  that  I  am  authorized 
to  make  the  acquisitions  for  which  I  have  applied  to  you.  In  order 
to  enable  you  to  understand  this  extract,  I  must  inform  you  that  I 
was  first  desired  to  address  myself  to  the  ministers,  that  I  might 
either  purchase  or  borrow  from  them  the  provisions  necessary  for 
us ;  and  in  case  the  credit  and  influence  of  the  Congress  should  not 
be  sufficient  in  the  present  circumstances,  I  was  commissioned  to  try 
and  procure  them  somewhere  else.  I  have  already  informed  you  of 
my  request  to  the  minister  and  of  his  answer. 

"  With  regard  to  the  credit  which  we  require  for  the  provisions 
and  ammunition  which  I  hope  to  obtain  from  you,  a  long  credit  will 
not,  I  trust,  be  necessary.  A  year  is  the  longest  credit  my  compa- 
triots are  accustomed  to  take,  and  the  Congress  having  bought  a 
quantity  of  tobacco  in  Virginia  and  Maryland,  together  with  some 
other  articles  which  will  be  embarked  as  soon  as  ships  can  be  pro- 
cured, I  have  no  doubt  that  considerable  returns  in  kind  will  be  made 


PAYMENT    FOE   THE    SUPPLIES.  287 

to  you  between  now  and  six  months  time,  and  that  all  will  be  paid 
in  the  course  of  a  year.  This  is  what  I  shall  press  on  the  Congress 
in  my  letter.  In  the  mean  while,  the  result  of  the  war  is  uncertain, 
and  our  commerce  may  suffer  by  it ;  but  I  hope  that,  whatever  may 
happen,  you  will  soon  receive  sufficiently  considerable  returns  to  be 
able  to  wait.  In  case  any  sum  remains  due  to  you  after  the  credit 
agreed  upon  has  expired,  it  is  perfectly  understood  that  the  usual  in- 
terest shall  be  allowed  you  for  that  sum. 

"  As  soon  as  you  have  been  able  to  get  this  letter  and  the  inclosed 
translated,  I  shall  have  the  honor  to  pay  you  a  visit.  Meanwhile  I 
am,  with  all  respect  and  attachment,  yours,  &c., 

'•  Silas  Dejvne." 

Beaumarchais  answered  this  letter  of  Silas  Deane's  by  a 
letter  dated  the  22d  July,  in  which,  after  agreeing  to  the  pay- 
ment in  natural  products,  and  to  the  delay  demanded  by  the 
agent  of  the  Congress,  he  speaks  in  the  following  manner  about 
the  price  of  the  provisions : 

"  As  I  believe  that  I  am  to  deal  with  a  virtuous  nation,  it  will  be 
enough  for  me  to  keep  an  exact  account  of  all  1  advance.  The  Con- 
gress will  be  at  liberty  to  pay  the  usual  value  of  the  things  on  their 
arrival,  or  to  allow  so  much  for  the  cost  price,  the  delays  and  the  in- 
convenience, with  a  commission  in  proportion  to  the  trouble  and  care, 
which  it  is  impossible  to  arrange  now.  I  wish  to  serve  your  coun- 
try as  if  it  were  my  own,  and  I  hope  to  find  in  the  friendship  of  a 
noble-minded  nation  the  true  reward  of  the  labor  which  I  willingly 
undertake  for  them." 

The  agent  of  the  Congress  agrees  to  this  arrangement  with 
gratitude  in  the  following  letter,  which  will  at  the  same  time 
give  us  an  idea  of  the  difficulties  of  the  undertaking,  and  con- 
sequently of  the  services  rendered  by  Beaumarchais  to  the 
United  States : 

"  Paris,  24th  July,  1776. 

"  Sir, — I  read  attentively  the  letter  with  which  you  honored  me 
on  the  22d,  and  I  think  your  propositions  concerning  the  arrangement 
for  paying  the  merchandise  and  ammunition  are  most  just  and  equi- 
table. The  generous  confidence  which  you  place  in  the  virtue  and 
justice  of  my  constituents  causes  me  the  greatest  joy,  gives  me  the 
greatest  hopes  of  the  success  of  the  enterprise,  both  to  their  satisfac- 
tion and  yours,  and  causes  me  to  assure  you  again  that  the  United 
States  will  take  the  most  efficacious  means  to  send  you  the  natural 
products,  and  to  justify  in  every  way  the  feelings  you  have  for  them. 
However,  as  the  cost  of  the  clothing  alone  would  amount  to  two  or 


288  BEAUMARCIIAIS   AND    HIS    TDIES. 

three  millions,  and  as  the  cannons,  the  arms,  and  ammunition  will 
greatly  increase  the  sum,  1  can  not,  on  account  of  the  uncertainty 
with  which  ships  arrive  during  war  time,  go  so  far  as  to  assure  you 
that  the  returns  for  the  whole  will  reach  you  within  the  time  speci- 
fied ;  but  in  that  case,  as  I  have  already  said,  you  will,  I  believe,  be 
allowed  interest  for  the  balance.  As  for  the  cargoes  sent  from 
America,  either  to  France  or  to  the  West  Indies,  in  return  for  your 
advances,  I  think  there  can  be  no  objection  to  their  being  addressed 
either  to  your  house  in  France  or  to  your  agents  in  whatever  place 
they  may  arrive. 

'•  I  see  that  the  exportation  of  cannons,  arms,  and  war  ammunition 
is  prohibited,  and  that  consequently  these  things  can  only  be  export- 
ed in  secret.  This  circumstance  causes  me  much  uneasiness ;  for  if 
I  can  not  land  them  publicly,  I  also  can  not  procure  them  openly 
without  causing  alarm,  which  would  perhaps  be  fatal  to  our  opera- 
tions. You  know  that  the  English  embassador  is  very  attentive  to 
all  I  do,  and  that  his  spies  watch  every  movement  of  those  with 
whom  I  am  connected.  In  such  a  situation,  and  knowing  so  little 
of  your  language,  I  foresee  many  difficulties  which  I  hardly  know 
how  to  face,  and  which  will  perhaps  embarrass  even  you,  notwith- 
standing your  superior  intelligence  and  ability.  You  will  agree  that 
two  things  are  at  present  as  essential  as  cannons  and  arms :  the  first 
is,  that  they  should  be  of  good  qualitj',*  and  the  second,  that  they 
should  be  embarked  without  being  stopped  and  detained.  The  fate 
of  my  country  depends  greatly  on  the  arrival  of  this  assistance.  I 
can  not  be  too  anxious  on  the  subject,  and  there  is  no  danger  nor  ex- 
pense, however  great,  which  ought  not  to  be  risked,  if  necessary,  for 
such  an  important  object.  I  beg  of  you  to  reflect  deeply  on  the  sub- 
ject, and  to  write  me  what  you  think  of  it.  I  went  to  your  house 
to-day  with  Dr.  Bancroft  with  the  intention  of  conferring  on  the  sub- 
ject with  you,  but  you  had  gone  to  Versailles.  Allow  me  to  call 
your  attention  particularly  to  the  latter  subjects,  and  to  assure  you 
that  I  have  the  honor  to  be,  with  the  greatest  respect,  sir,  yours,  &c., 

"  Silas  Deane." 
We  consider  these  letters  sufficient  to  decide  the  precise  na- 
ture of  the  affair,  and  the  very  formal  and  incontestable  en- 
gagements made  by  the  agent  of  the  Congress,     We  have  con- 

*  It  has  often  been  stated  by  writers  that  the  supplies  provided  by 
Beaumarchais  for  the  Congress  were  generally  of  inferior  quality.  There 
may  have  been  neglect  in  some  particulars,  which  may  be  explained  by 
the  difBculties  with  which  the  affair  was  surrounded,  but,  on  the  whole, 
the  accusation  has  no  foundation.  I  see  by  Beaumarchais'  papers  that 
the  American  agents  carefully  inspected  the  cargoes  before  their  de- 
imrturc. 


PAYMENT   FOK   THE    SUPPLIES.  289 

sidered  it  necessary  to  enter  into  these  details  because  the  re- 
sult was  most  extraordinary.  If  a  fresh  proof  is  necessary 
that  neither  Beaumarchais  nor  Silas  Deane  made  their  ar- 
rangements without  the  knowledge  of  the  minister,  I  can  give 
one  by  quoting  a  passage  from  a  letter  from  Silas  Deane  to 
M.  de  Vergennes,  dated  November  18, 1776,  which  shows  that 
the  agent  for  the  Congress,  acknowledging  as  he  did  the  po- 
sition taken  by  the  government,  which  declared  itself  a  per- 
fect stranger  to  the  affair,  nevertheless  kept  the  minister  in- 
formed of  what  passed  between  him  and  Beaumarchais. 

"  I  write  to  you,"  says  Silas  Deane  to  M.  de  Vergennes, "  in  con- 
sequence of  your  interview  with  M.  de  Beaumarchais  this  morning. 
I  wish  for  your  general  direction  and  advice  on  this  delicate,  crit- 
ical, and  important  business,  before  any  ulterior  and  public  operation." 

This  operation  was  indeed  a  most  difficult  one,  for  it  re- 
lated to  a  kind  of  commerce  which  was  officially  prohibited, 
the  prohibition  of  which  was  rigorously  watched  over  by  the 
English  embassador,  and  which  was  only  to  receive  the  sup- 
port of  the  French  government  so  long  as  this  support  was 
kept  secret.  The  least  indiscretion,  the  least  diplomatic  em- 
barrassment it  occasioned,  would  change  the  assistance  of  the 
ministry  to  persecution.  It  was  on  these  conditions  that  the 
author  of  "  The  Barber  of  Seville"  was  to  take  quietly,  and 
by  installments,  from  the  different  state  arsenals,  200  cannons, 
mortars,  shells,  cannon  balls ;  25,000  guns,  290,000  pounds 
of  powder  ;*  to  get  clothing  and  tents  for  25,000  men  ;  to  col- 

*  It  seems  that  the  Americans  were  at  this  time  in  want  of  powder. 
They  were  doubtless  not  perfect  enough  in  the  way  of  making  it  to  ob- 
tain it  at  home.  We  must  mention  here  that  the  arms  and  ammuni- 
tion taken  from  the  state  arsenals  were  not  given  gratis  to  Beaumar- 
chais. This  we  learn  from  an  unpublished  letter  from  the  minister  of 
war,  Count  de  St.  Germain,  dated  25th  August,  177G,  to  the  Count  de 
Vergennes,  which  I  have  extracted  from  Beaumarchais'  papers.  "  This 
company,"  writes  M.  de  St.  Germain,  "will  pay  in  ready  money  for  the 
cannon  at  the  rate  of  forty  sous  per  pound  of  metal,  the  cast  iron  at  the 
rate  of  ninety  francs  per  thousand,  and  the  guns  at  twenty-three  francs. 
In  case  it  should  ask  for  time,  it  would  give  good  security." 

In  another  letter  addressed  to  Beaumarchais,  dated  30th  June,  1776, 
the  minister  of  war  writes  to  him  about  the  powder  which  had  been  sent 
for,  and  which  was  to  be  replaced  in  three  months :  "  I  should  tell  you 
that  the  powder  which  you  will  have  to  replace  can  not  be  received  till 
after  having  been  tried  according  to  the  regulations." 

N 


290  BEAUMARCHAIS   AKD   HIS   TiaiES. 

lect  these  things  in  different  ports,  to  send  them  to  the  in- 
surgents, and  to  do  all  this  without  arousing  the  suspicions 
of  the  English  embassador.  But  it  was  not  in  vain  that 
Beaumarchais  had  taken  for  his  motto,  "My  life  is  a  com- 
bat." When  once  made  sure  of  the  consequences  of  the  af- 
fair by  the  arrangements  of  Silas  Deane,  he  hired  an  im- 
mense house,  called  the  Hotel  de  Hollande,  in  the  Faubourg 
du  Peuple,  installed  himself  in  it  with  his  officers  and  clerks, 
and  in  a  single  day,  from  being  a  comic  author,  became  a 
Spanish  merchant,  known  by  the  name  of  Rodeingue  Hortalez 
&  Co.  In  a  few  months,  in  the  midst  of  obstacles  too  long 
to  narrate,  he  had  collected  at  Plavre  and  Nantes  all  the 
above-named  articles.  Silas  Deane  had  promised  to  provide 
American  ships  for  conveying  the  cargoes,  but  these  ships  did 
not  come,  and  it  was  important  that  the  aid  should  arrive  in 
time  for  the  campaign  of  1777.  Beaumarchais  arranged  with 
some  shipowners,  and  provided  the  vessels.  Owing  to  a  let- 
ter from  Arthur  Lee,  who  accused  him  of  it  as  a  crime  after- 
ward, Silas  Deane  requested  that  some  artillery  and  engineer 
officers  might  be  enrolled  and  sent  at  the  same  time  as  the 
cannons  and  the  cannon  balls.  Beaumarchais  prevailed  upon 
the  minister  to  close  his  eyes  to  this  new  operation.  He  him- 
self enlisted  forty  or  fifty  officers,  who  were  to  go  singly  to 
Havre,  and  embark  under  the  conduct  of  a  superior  officer  of 
artillery  named  Ducoudray.* 

*  These  officers,  who  were  enrolled  by  Beaumarchais  and  Silas  Deane, 
and  who  preceded  Lafayette  to  America,  had  not  all  the  same  success. 
Many  had  pretensions  superior  to  their  capacity ;  the  Americans,  on 
their  side,  were  very  jealous,  and  quarrels  arose.  It  was  Beaumarchais, 
however,  who  sent  those  French  and  foreign  officers  who  distinguished 
themselves  the  most  after  Lafayette,  such  as  the  Marquis  de  La  Rouerie, 
much  loved  by  Washington,  of  whom  Chateaubriand  speaks  in  his  "  Me- 
moires  d'Outre-Tombe,"  the  Count  de  Conway,  an  Irishman,  the  Polish 
general  Pulawski,  and  particularly  the  old  general  Steuben,  a  fellow- 
soldier  of  Frederick's,  who  rendered  great  senice  by  setting  the  Amer- 
ican militia  on  a  good  footing.  It  is  amusing  to  find  the  author  of 
"The  Barber  of  Seville"  recommending  this  old  general  to  the  Con- 
gress, and  writing  on  war.  "  The  art  of  making  war  successfully,"  said 
he,  "being  the  fruit  of  courage,  united  with  prudence,  talent,  and  ex- 
perience, a  fellow-soldier  of  Frederick  the  Great,  who  did  not  leave  his 
side  for  twenty-t%vo  years,  seems  to  all  of  us  to  be  one  of  the  fittest  men 
to  second  M.  Washington." 


COUKTEE  OBDEBS.  291 

However,  notwithstanding  all  the  precautions  taken,  the 
expedition  had  made  some  noise.  We  read  in  a  letter  from 
the  lieutenant  of  police  to  M.  de  Vergennes,  dated  December 
12,  1776,  the  following  lines;  "The  arrival  of  Dr.  Franklin 
at  Nantes  creates  much  sensation,  and  the  departure  of  M.  de 
Beaumarchais,  who  is  said  to  have  gone  to  Havre,  does  not 
cause  less."  To  avoid  any  quarrel  with  the  English  embas- 
sador, it  had  been  decided  among  the  ministers  that  this  em- 
barkment  of  officers  and  ammunition  should  be  represented  as 
destined  by  the  minister  of  the  Admiralty  for  the  French  col- 
onies ;  but  the  expedition  was  considerable,  merchant  ships 
were  employed  instead  of  government  vessels,  the  officers  who 
were  to  embark  had  been  indiscreet,  and  the  presence  of  Beau- 
marchais at  Havre  greatly  increased  the  anxiety  of  the  En- 
glish embassador.  Although  the  author  of  "  The  Barber  of 
Seville"  had  set  out  under  the  name  of  Durand,  if  we  may 
judge  by  a  letter  from  one  of  the  officers  to  Silas  Deane,  he 
had  betrayed  his  incognito  by  occupying  himself  character- 
istically with  literary  affairs  during  this  important  business. 
"I  think,"  writes  this  officer,  "that  M.  de  Beaumarchais' 
journey  has  done  more  harm  than  good :  he  is  known  by 
many  people,  and  he  has  made  himself  known  to  the  whole 
town  by  having  his  comedies  played,  and  by  hearing  the  act- 
ors repeat  their  parts,  so  as  to  play  them  better.  All  this  has 
rendered  his  precaution  of  concealing  himself  under  the  name 
of  Durand  perfectly  useless." 

Beaumarchais,  on  the  contrary,  declares  that  he  alone  had 
been  able  to  check  the  indiscretion  of  the  officers.  However 
this  may  have  been.  Lord  Stormont  had  addressed  the  most 
vehement  remonstrances  to  the  government.  The  king,  who 
did  not  wish  for  war,  and  the  ministry,  who  were  not  in  a  po- 
sition to  make  it,  feared  to  advance  too  far.  A  counter  order 
had  been  sent  to  Havre  and  Nantes,  forbidding  the  officers  to 
embark  and  the  ships  to  start ;  but  when  the  counter  order  ar- 
rived, the  strongest  of  Beaumarchais'  three  ships,  the  "  Am- 
phitrite,"  with  the  greater  part  of  the  officers  and  munitions, 
had  already  set  sail.  The  two  others  were  alone  detained. 
Beaumarchais  returned  in  all  haste,  and  took  the  greatest 
trouble  to  obtain  the  revocation  of  the  counter  order.     The 


292  BEAUMARCHAIS    AND    HIS   TIMES. 

following  note  from  M.  de  Vergennes  to  his  first  clerk,  M. 
Gerard,  shows  how  delicate  the  position  of  ministers  was  in 
an  affair  of  this  kind : 

"  M.  de  Beaumarchais,"  says  M.  de  Vergennes, "  writes  to  me  on 
the  same  subject,  and  observes  that  he  wishes  to  have  this  permis- 
sion (the  revocation  of  the  counter  order)  from  me  ;  but  I  shall  take 
care  not  to  give  it  him,  although  I  have  it  in  writing  ;*  but,  as  M. 
de  Sartines  has  very  fortunately  been  charged  with  this  commission, 
and  I  shall  send  it  to  him,  I  beg  of  you  to  express  yourself  accord- 
ingly in  your  answer  to  the  Americans,  without  letting  them  see 
through  the  masks." 

At  last  Beaumarchais  obtained  leave  to  send  off  the  two 
other  ships;  but,  just  as  they  were  going  to  set  sail,  news  ar- 
rived that  the  "  Amphitrite,"  which  was  supposed  to  be  far 
away,  instead  of  continuing  her  voyage,  had  stopped  twice, 
once  at  Nantes  and  once  at  Lorient,  where  the  ship  still  was, 
because  the  accommodation  on  board  did  not  satisfy  M.  Du- 
coudray.  This  caused  fresh  complaints  from  Lord  Stormont. 
M.  de  Vergennes,  irritated  at  being  again  compromised,  with- 
drew the  revocation  of  the  counter  order  which  Beaumarchais 
had  received.  M.  Ducoudray  wrote  him  a  letter,  which  was 
full  of  confused  explanations  and  excuses.  Beaumarchais,  en- 
raged, answered  as  follows : 

"  Parii?,  22d  January,  1777. 

"  Sir, — As  your  whole  conduct  in  this  affair  is  inexplicable,  I  shall 
not  take  the  useless  trouble  of  studying  it.  It  will  be  sufficient  for 
me  to  protect  myself  and  my  friends  from  it  for  the  future.  Conse- 
quently, and  as  real  owner  of  the  vessel  'Amphitrite,'  I  order  Captain 
Fautrelle  to  take  the  sole  command  of  it.  You  are  intelligent  enough 
to  be  sure  that  I  have  not  taken  this  step  without  first  consulting  some 
powerful  and  wise  friends.  Consequently,  you  will  have  the  kind- 
ness, sir,  to  obey,  or  to  find  another  ship  and  go  where  you  please,  as 
I  have  no  intention  of  interfering  with  you  in  any  thing  but  what  re- 
lates to  me,  and  may  injure  me.  On  the  receipt  of  this  letter,  you 
will  kindly  put  Captain  Fautrelle  in  possession  of  all  the  parcels,  or- 
ders, and  letters  relating  to  the  delivery  of  the  cargo  of  his  ship,  and 

*  This  seems  to  me  to  show  that,  on  account  of  the  serious  conse- 
quences which  might  result  from  the  government  taking  part  in  Beau- 
marchais' operations,  each  minister,  when  some  decision  had  to  be  taken, 
required  a  WTitten  order  from  the  king's  hand.  I  see  no  other  way  of 
explaining  M.  de  V.'s  phrase. 


M.  DE   FKANCT.  293 

to  send  me  by  M.  de  Francy  an  account  in  detail  of  all  you  have 
spent  in  your  astonishing  and  very  unnecessary  voyages,  if  it  be  your 
intention  to  make  us  pay  the  expenses,  which  question  will  be  decided 
by  the  committee  of  our  affairs.     I  have  the  honor,  &c., 

"Caron  de  Beaumarchais." 

At  the  same  time  Beaumarchais  wrote  to  his  confidential 
agent,  M.  de  Francy,*  who  had  set  oflf  for  Lorient : 

"Paris,  28th  January,  1777. 

"  I  must  say,  like  Bartholo, '  the  devil  has  interfered  in  my  busi- 
ness,' and  we  must  remedy  the  past  evil  as  well  as  we  can  by  pre- 
venting its  recurrence.  Give  the  inclosed  letter  to  M.  Ducoudray. 
I  send  it  you  open,  that  you  may  answer  for  me  any  objections  he 
may  make.  Show  Captain  Fautrelle  the  order,  which  we  send  to 
him  with  this,  as  proprietor  of  the  vessel  which  he  commands,  and 
take  his  word  of  honor  for  his  exact  fulfillment  of  it.  Yesterday  I 
received  with  your  letter  one  from  my  nephew.  As  childish  as  the 
others,  my  nephew  seems  uneasy  about  going  on  board  the  '  Amphi- 
trite.'t  You  may  think  how  little  attention  I  pay  to  this  puerility ; 
recommend  him  again  to  the  care  of  M.  de  Conway,  and  to  Chevalier 
de  Bore.     Order  the  captain  to  receive  on  board  the  Marquis  de  la 

*  One  word  about  this  M.  de  Francy,  who  will  be  often  mentioned. 
He  was  a  distinguished  young  man,  in  whom  Beaumarchais  placed  great 
confidence,  and  whom  he  afterward  sent  as  his  representative  to  Amer- 
ica, where  he  was  very  useful  to  him.  Francy  served  his  patron  loy- 
ally, and,  to  Beaumarchais'  great  satisfaction,  made  a  large  fortune; 
unfortunately,  he  was  consumptive,  and  died  young.  I  have  many  let- 
ters from  him,  which  contain  very  interesting  details  about  persons  and 
things  in  America  at  the  time  of  the  Revolution,  and  which,  while  do- 
ing honor  to  his  intelligence  and  the  loftiness  of  his  sentiments,  prove 
the  sincerity  and  vivacity  of  an  affection  which  was  shared  by  all  who 
approached  Beaumarchais.  I  should  add  that  Theveneau  de  Francy 
was  the  younger  brother  of  Theveneau  de  Morande,  who  was  mention- 
ed in  one  of  our  former  chapters,  but  in  his  idea  of  morality  he  did  not 
resemble  his  brother ;  accordingly,  Beaumarchais,  while  keeping  one  at 
a  distance,  had  discerned  the  merit  of  the  other,  and  had  become  at- 
tached to  him. 

t  This  nephew  of  Beaumarchais,  a  son  of  the  watchmaker  De  Lepine, 
and  who  had  taken  the  name  of  Des  Epiniers,  set  out  for  America  as 
an  artillery  officer.  The  eveuing  before  one  of  the  battles  he  wrote  to 
his  uncle  :  "  Your  nephew,  my  dear  uncle,  may  be  killed,  but  he  will 
never  do  any  thing  unworthy  of  a  person  who  has  the  honor  of  being 
related  to  you.  This  is  as  certain  as  that  he  will  always  feel  the  great- 
est affection  for  the  best  uncle  living."  Des  Epiniers  died,  I  believe,  in 
America,  holding  the  rank  of  major. 


294  BEAmiAECHAIS  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

Rouerie,  who  has  been  particularly  recommended  to  us.  Give  the 
captain  the  general  and  secret  directions  as  to  his  real  route,  and 
what  he  is  to  do  when  arrived  at  his  destination.  If  circumstances 
oblige  him  to  stop  at  St.  Domingo,  tell  him  and  Conway  not  to  re- 
main there,  but  to  write  M.  le  Comte  d' Emery  from  the  Roads,*  say- 
ing that  unfortunate  circumstances  alone  have  determined  the  ficti- 
tious course  of  the '  Amphitrite'  toward  St.  Domingo,  and  to  take  from 
him  a  fresh  fictitious  order  for  France,  so  as  to  shelter  himself  under 
this  order  in  case  of  meeting  with  an  English  vessel  between  St. 
Domingo  and  the  true  destination  of  the  ship.  You  know  very  well 
that  all  the  precautions  of  the  ministry  are  taken  by  agreement  with 
us ;  this  can  be  relied  upon. 

"  Immediately  after  the  departure  of  the  '  Amphitrite'  we  shall  go 
to  Nantes,  where  I  fear,  however,  you  will  find  the  '  Mercure'  gone, 
for  she  is  ready  to  set  sail.  Good-by,  my  dear  Francy ;  come  back 
quickly  to  Paris.  You  will  have  traveled  enough  for  one  time  ;  oth- 
er tasks  wait  you  here  ;  but  I  will  share  the  labor.  Bring  me  back 
this  letter." 

In  spite  of  all  these  contretemps,  Beaumarchais'  first  three 
ships  were  at  last  able  to  start.  They  were  fortunate  enough 
to  escape  the  English  cruisers,  and  arrived  at  the  commence- 
ment of  the  campaign  of  1777  in  the  roads  of  Portsmouth. 
On  receiving,  for  the  first  time  from  Europe,  such  a  cargo  of 
cannons,  powder,  guns,  coats,  and  shoes  for  25,000  men,  the 
Americans  who  were  assembled  on  the  shore  applauded  vehe- 
mently. On  his  part,  the  American  agent  at  Paris,  Silas 
Deane,  on  the  29th  November,  1776,  wrote  as  follows  to  the 
secret  committee  of  the  Congress : 

"  I  should  never  have  succeeded  in  fulfilling  my  mission  without 
the  indefatigable,  generous,  and  intelligent  efforts  of  M.  de  Beaumar- 
chais, to  whom  the  United  States  owe  more  in  every  respect  than  to 
any  other  person  on  this  side  of  the  ocean.  He  is  greatly  in  advance 
for  ammunition,  articles  of  clothing,  equipment,  and  other  things,  and 
I  firmly  trust  that  you  will  let  him  have  considerable  returns  as 
promptly  as  possible.  He  wrote  you  by  M.  Macrery,  and  he  will 
write  to  you  again  by  this  ship.  I  could  not  in  a  letter  render  full 
justice  to  M.  de  Beaumarchais  for  his  skill  and  zeal  in  maintaining 
our  cause  ;  all  I  can  say  is,  that  in  this  operation  he  has  acted  in  ac- 
cordance with  the  most  large  and  liberal  principles,  and  that  he  has 
made  our  affairs  entirely  his  own.     His  influence  and  reputation, 

*  The  Governor  of  St.  Domingo. 


TREACHERY    OF    ARTHUR   LEE.  295 

which  are  great,  have  been  entirely  employed  in  serving  our  inter- 
ests, and  I  hope  the  result  will  be  equal  to  his  desires." 

Beaumarchais  naturally  expected  to  receive  as  quickly  as 
possible  from  the  Congress  plenty  of  thanks,  and  plenty  of  to- 
bacco from  Virginia  and  Maryland;  he  did  not  even  receive 
an  answer  to  his  letters.  These  returns,  which,  after  the  for- 
mal promises  of  Silas  Deane,  were  to  have  arrived  in  six 
months,  did  not  arrive  at  all.  Beaumarchais  sent  two  more 
ships  with  two  more  cargoes,  but  no  news  from  the  Congress. 
Silas  Deane  was  confused,  and  could  not  explain  this  silence. 
Both  of  them  had  reckoned  without  Arthur  Lee,  who  had  just 
been  appointed,  with  Franklin,  to  the  American  deputation  in 
France.  Franklin  arrived  at  Paris  in  December,  177G  ;  Ar- 
thur Lee  arrived  at  the  end  of  the  same  month.  His  first  con- 
fidential letter  to  the  secret  committee  of  the  Congi-ess,  dated 
January  3,  1777,  is  very  characteristic:  "The  politics  of  this 
court,"  he  writes,  "are  in  a  kind  of  trembling  agitation."  It 
would  never  be  guessed  why. 

"  It  is  because,"  adds  Lee, "  the  promises  which  were  made  to  me 
by  the  French  agent  in  London,  and  which  I  communicate  to  you 
through  M.  Storey,  have  not  been  entirely  fulfilled.  The  change  in 
the  mode  of  transmission  from  what  had  been  promised  had  been 
planned  with  M.  Deane,  whom  Hortalez  or  Beaumarchais  found  here 
on  his  return  from  London,  and  with  whom  all  arrangements  have 
been  made." 

In  another  confidential  letter  Lee  has  the  audacity  to  write: 

"  M.  de  Vergennes,  the  minister  and  his  secretary,  have  repeated- 
ly assured  us  that  no  return  was  expected  for  the  cargoes  sent  by 
Beaumarchais.  This  gentleman  is  not  a  merchant ;  he  is  known  to 
be  a  political  agent,  employed  by  the  court  of  France." 

The  documents  we  have  quoted,  the  very  plain  declaration 
of  M.  de  Vergennes,  which  we  shall  quote  in  its  place,  as  well 
as  the  letters  from  Beaumarchais  to  the  minister,  authorize  us 
in  affirming  that  this  assertion  of  Arthur  Lee's  was  a  remark- 
able falsehood.  He  appears  himself  to  suffer  some  trouble 
from  this  falsehood,  for  in  a  letter  which  follows  the  one  we 
have  just  quoted,  he  writes,  "  The  ministry  /las  often  given  us 
to  understand  that  we  had  nothing  to  pay  for  the  cargoes  sup- 
plied by  Beaumarchais ;  however,  the  latter,  with  a  persever- 
ance of  adventurers  of  his  kind,  persists  in  his  demands." 


296  BEAUMAECHAIS   AND  HIS  TIAIES. 

It  is  useless  to  call  attention  to  the  fact  that  the  letters  of 
this  kind  are  always  letters  signed  by  Arthur  Lee  alone,  and 
written  wthout  the  knowledge  of  his  two  colleagues.  Placed 
between  the  contradictory  affirmations  of  Silas  Deane  and  Ar- 
thur Lee,  the  secret  committee  of  the  Congress  waited  for 
Franklin's  evidence,  and  Franklin  remained  silent.  From  the 
first  day  of  the  meeting  of  the  three  American  commissioners 
at  Paris,  Deane  and  Arthur  Lee  were  at  daggers  drawn. 
Franklin,  already  prejudiced  against  the  author  of  "The  Bar- 
ber of  Seville,"  by  his  friend.  Dr.  Dubourg,  and  in  the  vain 
hope  of  being  at  peace  with  Arthur  Lee,  had  resolved  to  sac- 
rifice Beaumarchais  to  li>m,  declaring  to  Deane  that  he  would 
not,  in  any  way,  interfere  with  the  transactions  made  between 
the  two.  It  must  be  added  to  this  that  this  same  officer,  Du- 
coudray,  whom  we  have  already  seen  so  sharply  reprimanded 
by  Beaumarchais,  had  arrived  in  America,  furious  against  him, 
and  that,  after  writing  him  in  France  the  most  perplexed  and 
the  most  humble  letter,  he  had  commenced  in  the  United 
States  by  publishing  a  calumnious  pamphlet  about  him.* 

To  complete,  finally,  our  explanation  of  the  attitude  of  the 
secret  committee  of  the  Congress,  which  would  otherwise  be 
inexplicable,  we  must  say  that  the  letters  of  Beaumarchais 
himself  were  sufficiently  strange,  from  their  mixture  of  the 
patriotic  and  mercantile  spirit,  both  equally  sincere  with  him, 
to  inspire  distrust  in  minds  already  prejudiced.  Only  imagine 
serious  Yankees,  who  had  nearly  all  been  traders  before  be- 
coming soldiers,  receiving  masses  of  cargoes,  which  were  fre- 
quently embarked  by  stealth  during  the  night,  and  the  invoices 
of  which  consequently  presented  some  irregularities,  and  all 
this  without. any  other  letters  of  advice  than  the  rather  bom- 
bastic missives  signed  with  the  romantic  name  of  Koderigue 
Hortalez  &  Co.,  in  which  Beaumarchais  mixed  up  protesta- 
tions of  enthusiasm,  offers  of  unlimited  service  and  political 
advice,  with  applications  for  tobacco,  indigo,  or  salt  fish,  and 
which  ended  with  tirades,  of  which  we  may  take  the  follow- 
ing as  an  example : 

*  Shortly  after  his  arriral  in  America,  this  officer,  who  was  the  broth- 
er of  the  celebrated  barrister  Tron9on-Ducoudra7,  was  drowned  at  the 
passage  of  a  river. 


RODERIGUE   HOKTALEZ   AND   CO.  297 

"  Gentlemen,  consider  my  house  as  the  head  of  all  operations  use- 
ful to  your  cause  in  Europe,  and  myself  as  the  most  zealous  partisan 
of  your  nation,  the  soul  of  your  successes,  and  a  man  profoundly  fill- 
ed with  the  respectful  esteem  with  which  I  have  the  honor  to  be,  &c., 

"  RODERIGUE  HORTALEZ    &   Co." 

The  calculating  disposition  of  the  Yankees  naturally  inclined 
them  to  think  that  so  ardent  and  fantastic  a  being,  if,  after 
all,  such  a  being  really  existed,  was  playing  a  commercial 
comedy,  agreed  upon  between  the  French  government  and 
himself,  and  that  they  might,  in  all  security  of  conscience,  make 
use  of  his  supplies,  read  his  amplifications,  and  dispense  with 
sending  him  tobacco.  Beaumarchais,  however,  was  in  a  cruel 
position.  Eelying  upon  the  execution  of  the  engagement  made 
by  the  agent  of  the  Congress,  he  had  set  up  his  undertaking 
on  an  immense  scale,  he  had  freighted  ships,  made  contracts 
with  shipowners,  entered  into  partnership  with  merchants,* 
and  given  considerable  orders.  In  September,  1777,  he  had 
sent  to  the  Congress  cargoes  to  the  amount  of  five  millions, 
without  even  receiving  an  answer  to  the  letters  sent  with 
them.  The  Congress  persisted  in  regarding  him  as  a  fictitious 
personage.  In  vain  he  wrote  to  it  in  December,  1777,  "  I  am 
exhausted,  both  as  regards  money  and  credit.  Eelying  too 
much  on  returns  so  many  times  promised,  I  have  gone  far  be- 
yond my  own  funds  and  those  of  my  friends.  I  have  even  ex- 
hausted other  powerful  aid,  which  I  had  first  of  all  obtained 

*  I  see,  from  his  papers,  that  he  had  partners  of  different  kinds,  ship- 
owners, merchants,  and  even  of  a  kind  which  would  scarcely  have  been 
expected ;  for  instance,  in  the  following  year,  when  he  was  trading  not 
only  with  the  Congress  of  the  United  States,  but  with  private  individu- 
als, he  wrote  to  the  supercargo  of  one  of  his  ships,  under  date  of  March 
14th,  1778,  "In  the  general  invoice  that  you  will  have  to  send  me  of 
the  entire  supply  of  the  items  which  concern  the  Marquis  de  Saint-Aig- 
nan  and  the  Marquis  of  Aubespine,  instead  of  putting  their  names  in 
full,  only  indicate  them  by  initials ;  they  may  desire  one  day  that  their 
names  should  not  be  mentioned  in  a  commercial  affair ;  and  provided 
they  and  myself  can  understand  it,  that  will  be  sufficient  for  the  pres- 
ent." Thus  the  taste  for  commerce  was  not  exclusively  the  attribute 
of  the  author  of  "  The  Barber  of  Seville :"  we  find  the  highest  nobles, 
who,  instead  of  going  to  "  get  their  heads  broken  with  the  insurgents," 
as  used  to  be  said  at  the  time,  preferred  selling  their  little  stores  through 
the  medium  of  Beaumarchais. 

N2 


298  BEAUMARCHAIS   AND   HIS   TIMES. 

under  the  express  promise  of  returning  it  before  long."  The 
documents  deposited  in  the  Archives  of  Foreign  Affairs  prove, 
nevertheless,  that  in  this  same  year,  1777,  M.  de  Vergennes, 
taking  into  consideration  the  desperate  troubles  in  which  Beau- 
marchais  found  himself  plunged  through  the  obstinacy  of  the 
Congress  in  refusing  him  returns,  advanced  to  him  successive- 
ly, May  31st,  400,000  livres,  June  16th,  200,000,  July  3d, 
474,496  livres.  But  what  he  had  already  supplied,  without 
speaking  of  his  losses,  of  which  we  will  say  a  word  farther  on, 
already  went  far  beyond  the  subvention  of  3,000,000  which 
he  received  from  the  state. 

Determined  to  see  clearly  into  the  intrigue  which  prevent- 
ed the  government  of  the  United  States  from  fulfilling  the  en- 
gagements of  Silas  Deane,  Beaumarchais  at  last  sent  to  Amer- 
ica the  young  De  Francy,  with  the  double  mission  of  obtaining 
justice  from  Congress  for  the  past,  and  preventing  for  the  fu- 
ture his  cargoes  from  being  gratuitously  delivered.  I  will  here 
quote  two  of  his  unpublished  letters  to  Francy,  because  they 
exhibit  him  in  his  true  aspect,  as  ardent  in  his  intimate  corre- 
spondence as  in  his  official  letters,  and  with  the  same  variety 
of  inclinations  and  instincts  which  has  already  struck  us  more 
than  once. 

"Paris,  December  20,  1777. 

"  I  profit,  my  dear  Francy,  by  every  opportunity  to  give  you  news 
of  myself ;  do  the  same  with  me,  I  beg  of  you. 

"  Although  to-day  is  December  20, 1777,  my  large  vessel  has  not  yet 
started ;  but  this  is  rather  a  common  accident  with  all  merchant  vessels 
destined  for  America.  The  minister  was  afraid  commerce  might  de- 
prive the  navy  of  too  many  sailors  at  once,  at  a  time  when  from  any 
one  moment  to  another  it  may  have  need  of  them.  The  most  strict 
orders  have  been  given  in  all  the  ports,  but  above  all  in  the  one  where 
I  am  fitting  out.  It  appears  that  the  strength  and  size  of  my  ship 
have  caused  Lord  Stormont  to  make  some  objections,  from  which  the 
minister  feared  he  was  perhaps  suspected  of  favoring  an  operation 
which,  in  truth,  takes  place  without  his  assistance,  and  even  in  spite 
of  him.  When  ready  to  set  sail  my  artillery  was  taken  away  from  me, 
and  the  trouble  of  getting  it  back,  or  obtaining  some  more,  is  what 
keeps  me  in  port.  I  am  struggling  against  obstacles  of  every  nature ; 
but  I  struggle  with  all  ray  might,  and  hope  to  conquer  with  patience, 
courage,  and  money.  The  enormous  lasses  to  which  aU  this  puts  me 
appear  to  aSoct  no  one ;  the  minister  is  inflexible ;  I  have  no  one 


LETTER   TO   DE   FKA^'CY.  299 

for  me :  even  the  deputies  of  Passy*  claim  the  honor  of  annoying 
me — me,  the  best  friend  of  their  country.  On  the  arrival  of  the 
'  Amphitrite,'  which  landed  at  Lorient  a  small  cargo  of  rice  and  indi- 
go, they  had  the  injustice  to  take  possession  of  it,  saying  it  was  ad- 
dressed to  them  and  not  to  me  ;  but,  as  M.  de  Voltaire  very  well  says, 
'  '  Injustice  at  last  produces  independence.' 

"  Probably  they  had  looked  upon  my  patience  as  weakness,  and  my 
generosity  as  folly.  In  proportion  as  I  am  attached  to  the  interests 
of  America,  I  have  considered  myself  insulted  by  the  rather  uncivil 
liberties  which  the  deputies  of  Passy  have  wished  to  take  with  me. 
I  have  written  them  the  letter  of  which  1  send  you  a  copy,  and  which 
they  have  up  to  this  time  left  without  an  answer.  In  the  mean  while, 
I  have  had  the  cargo  deposited  with  MM.  Berard  freres,  and  in  do- 
ing so,  have  not  considered  I  was  derogating  from  my  frank  and  gen- 
erous conduct  toward  the  Congress,  but  only  using  my  most  lawful 
right  over  the  first  and  very  slight  return  for  an  enormous  advance  : 
this  cargo  is  only  worth  150,000  livres.  You  see  that  there  is  a  great 
difference  between  this  drop  of  water  and  the  ocean  of  my  debts. f 

"  As  for  you,  my  dear  friend,  I  imagine  you  have  arrived.  I  im- 
agine you  have  obtained  from  the  Congress  some  reasonable  advance 
on  account,  and  such  as  the  situation  of  American  affairs  has  permit- 
ted it  to  give  you.  I  imagine  that,  according  to  my  instructions,  you 
have  obtained  tobaccos,  and  are  still  obtaining  them  every  day.  I 
imagine  that  my  vessels  will  find  their  return  cargoes  ready  to  be  era- 
barked  as  soon  as  they  arrive  where  you  are.  I  further  hope  that, 
if  events  should  have  kept  them  longer  than  I  imagine,  you  will  have 
followed  the  advice  of  our  friend  Montieu,  and  that  you  will  send  me 
at  least,  by  the  '  Flamand,'  and  such  other  vessel  as  you  may  be  able 
to  send  with  it  (making  use  of  the  extra  guns  with  which  Landais 
supplied  this  vessel),  a  cargo  which  will  free  me  a  little  from  the  hor- 
rible straits  I  am  in. 

"  I  do  not  know  whether  I  delude  myself,  but  I  believe  in  the  good 
feeling  and  equity  of  the  Congress  as  in  my  own  and  yours.  Its 
deputies  over  here  are  not  in  easy  circumstances,  and  want  often  ren- 
ders men  deficient  in  delicacy :  that  is  how  I  explain  the  injustice 
they  have  endeavored  to  do  me.  J    I  do  not  despair  even  of  gaining 

*  The  American  deputation,  whose  chief,  Franklin,  was  residing  at 
Passy. 

t  These  were,  in  fact,  the  first  returns  that  an-ived  in  Europe  in  one 
of  Beaumarchais'  vessels.  Franklin  and  Lee,  who  in  this  matter  were 
acting  in  spite  of  Silas  Deane,  did  not  dare  to  persist  in  their  demands, 
and  the  cargo  remained  with  Beaumarchais. 

X  This  explanation  may  appear  strange,  but  it  is  not  devoid  of  proba- 
bility, at  least  not  at  an  epoch  a  little  anterior  to  the  one  in  which 


300  BEAUMARCHAIS   AND    HIS   TIITES. 

them  over  by  the  calmness  of  my  representations  and  the  firmness 
of  my  conduct.  It  is  very  unfortunate,  my  friend,  for  this  cause,  that 
its  interests  in  France  should  have  been  intrusted  to  several  persons 
at  once.  One  alone  would  have  succeeded  much  better,  and,  as  far 
as  I  am  concerned,  I  owe  Mr.  Deane  the  justice  to  say  that  be  is 
both  ashamed  and  grieved  at  the  conduct  of  his  colleagues  toward 
me,  the  fault  of  which  lies  altogether  with  Mr.  Lee. 

"  I  have  also  met  with  annoyances  from  the  provincial  Congress 
of  South  Carolina,  and  I  am  writing  by  L'Estargette  to  President 
Rutledge  to  call  upon  him  to  do  justice  to  himself.  L'Estargette, 
who  will  write  to  you,  will  inform  you  what  success  my  just  repre- 
sentations* will  have  had.  Through  all  these  annoyances,  the  news 
from  America  overwhelms  me  with  joy.  Brave,  brave  people  I  their 
warlike  conduct  justifies  my  esteem,  and  the  noble  enthusiasm  which 
is  felt  for  them  in  France.  Finally,  my  friend,  I  only  wish  for  some 
returns,  then,  in  order  to  be  able  to  serve  them  anew,  to  meet  my  en- 
gagements, and  to  be  able  to  contract  fresh  ones  to  their  advantage.! 

Beaumarchais  gave  it,  being  ignorant  at  the  time  that  the  French  gov- 
ernment had  just  advanced  money  secretly  to  the  American  deputies. 
The  fact  is,  that  the  latter  received  no  more  funds  from  the  Congress 
than  Beaumarchais  received  returns  in  kind.  Silas  Deane  had  been 
obliged,  in  the  first  instance,  to  borrow  from  Beaumarchais  the  sums 
necessary  for  his  personal  maintenance.  Arthur  Lee  endeavored  to 
make  use  of  this  fact  against  his  colleague ;  but  there  was  no  mystery 
on  this  point.  Far  from  concealing  it,  Beaumarchais  often  speaks  of 
it  in  his  letters  to  the  Congress  with  a  persistence  which  is  perhaps  not 
always  in  very  good  taste,  but  which  proves  at  least  the  perfectly  inno- 
cent nature  of  his  debt,  which  necessity  alone  had  forced  Silas  Deane 
to  contract,  as  his  country  did  not  send  him  a  sou.  As  for  Franklin, 
when  he  landed  in  France  he  was  a  little  richer,  for  he  writes  to  his 
colleague,  Silas  Deane,  from  Quiberon,  in  December,  1776  :  "  Our  ves- 
sel brought  in  indigo  on  account  of  the  Congress  to  the  value  of  about 
three  thousand  pounds  sterling,  which  is  to  be  at  our  orders  to  pay  our 
expenses."  In  default  of  bills  of  exchange.  Congress  had  at  all  events 
allowed  him  indigo  to  live  upon.  In  the  course  of  the  year  1777,  the 
French  government  itself  repeatedly  gave  money  to  the  deputies  of 
Passy,  to  the  extent  of  two  millions,  which  was  devoted  in  part  to  the 
maintenance  of  the  agents  and  sub-agents  of  America  in  France,  and 
in  part  to  the  purchase  of  merchandise  for  the  Congress.  The  employ- 
ment of  these  millions  occasioned,  at  a  later  period  in  Congress,  dis^ 
cussions  of  a  sufficiently  disreputable  nature. 

*  After  having  commenced  with  the  general  Congress,  Beaumarchais 
also  sent  supplies  to  the  different  states,  and  was  scarcely  better  paid  by 
them. 

t  Here  we  have  Beaumarchais  in  his  true  character,  at  once  specula- 


LETTEE   TO   DE   FRANCT.  301 

"  It  appears  to  me,  if  I  am  to  believe  the  news,  that  onr  French- 
men hive  done  wonders  in  all  the  battles  of  Pennsylvania.  It  would 
have  been  very  disgraceful  for  me,  for  my  country,  for  the  French 
name,  if  their  conduct  had  not  corresponded  with  the  nobility  of  the 
cause  they  had  espoused,  with  the  efforts  I  have  made  to  procure 
employment  for  the  greater  number  of  them  ;  finally,  for  the  reputa- 
tion of  the  military  corps  from  which  they  have  been  drawn. 

"  The  town  of  London  is  in  a  fearful  commotion  ;  the  ministry  is 
on  the  point  of  death.  The  opposition  is  triumphant,  and  severely 
so.  And  the  King  of  France,  like  a  powerful  eagle  hovering  above 
these  events,  prolongs  for  another  moment  the  pleasure  of  seeing  the 
two  parties  wavering  between  the  fear  and  the  hope  of  his  decision, 
which  is  to  be  of  so  much  weight  in  the  quarrel  of  the  two  hemi- 
spheres. 

"  To  be  pedantic  enough  to  lay  do^vn  your  plan  of  conduct  for  you 
at  a  distance  of  two  thousand  leagues  from  myself,  would,  my  dear 
friend,  be  to  imitate  the  folly  of  the  English  minister  who  wished  to 
make  war  and  draw  up  the  plan  of  the  campaign  in  his  own  closet ! 
I  profit  by  his  lesson.  Serve  me  as  well  as  you  can ;  this  is  your 
only  means  of  rendering  yourself  useful  to  me  and  to  yourself,  and 
of  inspiring  interest  to  America. 

"Do  like  myself;  despise  small  considerations,  small  measures, 
and  small  resentments.  I  have  afliliated  you  to  a  magnificent  cause ; 
you  are  the  agent  of  a  man  who  is  just  and  generous.  Remember 
that  success  is  to  fortune  as  the  money  due  to  me  is  to  the  chance 
of  a  great  combination  of  events,  but  that  my  reputation  is  my  own, 
as  you  are  now  the  architect  of  yours.  Let  it  always  be  good,  my 
friend,  and  all  will  not  be  lost  when  every  thing  else  is  lost.  I  greet 
you  as  I  esteem  you  and  love  you." 

The  following  passage  is  a  postscript,  in  which  we  see  Beau- 
marchais  applying  to  politics  the  resources  of  the  stage,  and 
combining  ingeniously  the  means  of  evading  the  ministerial 
orders,  just  as  he  would  have  arranged  a  theatrical  piece : 

"  This  is  what  I  think  about  my  large  vessel :  I  can  not  break  the 
promise  I  have  given  to  M.  de  Maurepas  that  my  vessel  should  only 
be  used  for  taking  to  St.  Domingo  seven  or  eight  hundred  militia- 
men, and  that  I  would  return  without  touching  at  any  part  of  the 
Continent.     However,  the  cargo  of  this  vessel  is  of  much  import- 

tive  and  enthusiastic.  It  can  not  be  said  that  he  is  making  a  display 
in  this  case,  for  he  is  not  writing  oflScially  to  any  person  in  power,  but 
confidentially  to  his  business  agent.  The  words  "my  esteem,"  as  well 
as  the  words  "  for  me,"  in  the  following  paragraph,  are  quite  in  his  style 
of  naive  self-confidence. 


302  BEAUMAKCHAIS   AND   HIS    TlilES. 

ance  to  the  Congress  and  myself.  It  consists  of  soldiers'  coats  ready 
made,  of  sheets,  blankets,  <fec.  It  also  conveys  artillery  to  the  ex- 
tent of  sixty-six  bronze  cannons,  of  which  four  pieces  carry  thirty- 
three  pounds,  twenty-four  pieces  twenty-four  pounds,  twenty  pieces 
sixteen  pounds,  and  the  rest  twelve  and  eight  pounds  ;  besides  thirty- 
three  pieces  of  artillery  carrying  four  pounds,  making  altogether  a 
hundred  bronze  cannons,  in  addition  to  a  great  many  other  things. 

"After  much  thinking,  it  has  occurred  to  me  that  you  might  ar- 
range secretly  with  the  secret  committee  of  the  Congress  to  send 
immediately  one  or  two  American  privateers  up  to  St.  Domingo. 
One  of  them  will  send  his  shallop  to  Cape  Frangais,  or  will  makS  the 
signal  agreed  upon  long  since  for  all  American  ships  coming  to  the 
Cape,  that  is  to  say,  he  will  hoist  a  white  streamer,  display  the  Dutch 
flag  at  the  mainmast,  and  fire  three  guns ;  then  M.  Carabasse*  will 
go  on  board  with  M.  de  Montaut,  captain  of  my  vessel, '  Le  Fier  Rod- 
erigue.'  They  will  arrange  so  that  on  my  vessel  going  out,  the  Amer- 
ican privateer  may  seize  it,  under  no  matter  what  pretext,  and  take 
it  away.  My  captain  will  protest  violently,  and  will  draw  up  a  written 
statement  threatening  to  make  his  complaint  to  the  Congress.  The 
vessel  will  be  taken  where  you  are.  The  Congress  will  loudly  dis- 
avow the  action  of  the  brutal  privateer,  and  will  set  the  vessel  at  lib- 
erty, with  polite  apologies  to  the  French  flag ;  during  this  time  you 
will  land  the  cargo,  fill  the  ship  with  tobacco,  and  send  it  back  to  me 
as  quickly  as  possible,  with  all  you  may  happen  to  have  ready  to  ac- 
company it.  As  M.  Carmichael  is  very  rapid,  you  will  have  time  to 
arrange  this  manoeuvre  either  with  the  Congress  or  with  the  captain 
of  some  privateer  who  is  a  friend  of  yours,  and  discreet.  By  this 
means  M.  de  Maurepas  finds  himself  liberated  from  his  promise  to 
those  who  have  received  it,  and  I  from  mine  toward  him,  for  no  one 
can  do  any  thing  against  violence,  and  my  operation  will  meet  with 
success  in  spite  of  all  the  obstacles  by  which  my  labors  have  been 
so  thickly  attended. 

"  It  is  on  the  following  plan,  my  dear  friend,  that  I  beg  you  to  work 

with  eflfect  and  rapidity,  for  my  vessel  will  start  before  the  15th  of 

June.    It  will  have  orders  to  wait  for  news  from  you  at  Cape  Fran(;ais. 

"  From  all  I  am  doing,  the  Congress  will  no  longer  doubt,  I  hope, 

that  the  most  zealous  partisan  of  the  Republic  in  France  is  your  friend. 

"  RODEKIGUE  HORTALEZ  &  Co." 

The  second  unpublished  letter,  which  we  also  print,  will 
give  an  idea  of  the  importance  of  Beaumarchais'  armaments. 
It  was  written  at  the  moment  when  war  had  just  broken  out 
between  France  and  England. 

*  Beaumarchais'  agent  at  the  Cape. 


LETTEE   TO    DE    FRAXCl.  303 

"  Paris,  December  6,  1778. 

"  I  send  on  to  you  the  privateer  '  Zephyr,'  to  announce  to  you  that 
I  am  ready  to  put  to  sea  a  fleet  of  more  than  twelve  sail,  at  the  head 
of  which  is  the  '  Fier  Roderigue,'  which  you  sent  back  to  me,  and 
which  reached  me  at  Rochefort  on  the  first  of  October  in  good  condi- 
tion. This  fleet  can  carry  from  five  to  six  thousand  tons,  and  is 
armed  altogether  like  a  fleet  of  war.  Make  your  arrangements  ac- 
cordingly. If  my  ship  the  '  Ferragus,'  which  left  Rochefort  in  Sep- 
tember, has  reached  you,  keep  it  to  send  back  with  my  fleet.  This 
is  a  joint  expedition  of  M.  de  Montieu's*  and  my  own.  The  cargoes 
have  been  formed  in  accordance  with  the  statement  which  you  sent 
me  by  the  '  Fier  Roderigue,'  although,  to  tell  the  truth,  I  have  thought 
more  of  the  means  of  getting  back  my  funds  than  of  accumulating 
debts  without  cessation.  The  vessels  will  be  principally  laden,  then, 
with  tafia,  sugar,  and  a  little  coffee.  Having  plenty  of  space  for  the 
voyage  out,  we  took  whatever  freight  we  found  ;  but  we  shall  bring 
nothing  back  for  any  one  but  ourselves  on  our  return. 

"  Accordingly,  we  send  you  English  hardware,  cloths,  gauzes,  rib- 
bons, silk  stuffs,  nails,  linen  cloth,  cordage,  attempts  at  various  kinds 
of  painted  cloth,  paper,  books,  brushes,  and,  generally,  all  the  articles 
for  which  you  expressed  a  preference.  Arrange  so  that  this  fleet 
may  remain  as  short  a  time  as  possible  in  danger ;  for,  although  pow- 
erful and  very  well  armed,  the  news  of  its  position,  which  will  reach 
the  people  where  you  are,  must  not  give  time  to  our  enemies  to  en- 
able them  to  cut  off  our  return.     First,  commerce  ;  secondly,  war. 

"  The  fleet  will  reach  you  at  earliest  in  the  course  of  February, 
being  intended  to  make  a  detour  in  order  to  supply  our  colonies  with 
flour  and  salt  provisions,  of  which  they  have  great  need,  and  the  prod- 
uct of  which,  coming  back  to  us  in  bills  of  exchange  upon  our  treas- 
urers before  the  return  of  our  fleet,  will  enable  us  to  meet  in  the 
mean  while  the  terrible  outlay  to  which  this  expedition  puts  us.  It  is 
not  to  set  sail  until  the  first  days  of  January. 

"  You  will  receive  by  the  '  Fier  Roderigue'  all  my  accounts  with 
the  Congress  in  due  form,  insurance  included,  and  without  policies 
being  supplied,  as  I  have  been  my  own  insurer  ;  and  it  is  a  thing  be- 
yond doubt,  according  to  the  decision  of  all  European  commerce,  that 
to  insure,  or  run  the  risks  of  insurance,  gives  an  incontestable  right  to 
the  payment  of  insurance  money.  It  results  simply  from  this,  that 
Congress  will  not  have  any  thing  to  pay  for  the  cargoes  it  does  not 
receive,  and  which  may  be  captured  on  the  voyage  from  the  vessels 
sent  from  Europe.  I  will  add  to  my  account  an  exact  statement  of 
what  I  have  received  from  the  Congress  in  spite  of  the  ungrateful 
deputation  at  Passy,  which  has  disputed  my  right  to  each  of  the  re- 

*  A  shipowner  of  Nantes,  in  partnership  with  Beaumarchais. 


304  BEAUMABCHAIS   AND   HIS  TEVIES. 

turn  cargoes,  and  which  would  also  have  taken  from  me  that  of '  La 
Ther^se,'  if  M.  Pelletier,  who  had  received  the  proper  instructions 
from  me,  had  not  sold  it  by  authority.  This  perpetual  injustice  makes 
me  indignant,  and  has  caused  me  to  take  an  irrevocable  resolution  to 
have  no  further  relations  with  the  deputation  as  long  as  this  rogue 
Lee  belongs  to  it.  The  Americans  must  understand  their  business 
very  badly  to  leave  so  suspicious,  and,  above  all,  so  impolite  a  man  at 
our  court.*  I  have  been  promised,  mon  cher,  your  captain's  com- 
mission. I  hope  to  be  sufficiently  fortunate  to  send  it  you  by  the 
'  Fier  Roderigue  ;'  but,  nevertheless,  do  not  count  on  it  until  you  have 
it  in  your  hands.f  You  know  our  country ;  it  is  so  great  that  it  is 
always  very  far  from  the  place  in  which  a  thing  is  promised  to  that 
in  which  it  is  given.  In  short,  I  have  not  had  it  yet,  although  it  is 
promised. 

"  All  the  other  details  will  reach  you  by  the  '  Fier.'  Ah !  what 
would  you  say  if  I  enabled  you  on  its  arrival  to  embrace  our  friend 
Montieu  on  board  ?  He  is  very  anxious  for  it ;  but  it  is  not  yet  de- 
cided. 

"  I  have  no  other  money  for  the  Count  de  Pulaski  than  that  which 
he  remitted  to  me  himself,  out  of  which  I  have  just  paid  a  hundred 
louis  for  him.  I  will  send  you  his  account  clearly  made  out.  He 
was  to  have  written  to  me,  but  I  have  never  heard  from  him.  I  ap- 
prove of  what  you  have  done  for  M.  de  Lafayette,  excellent  young 
man  that  he  is.  I  am  doing  a  service  to  myself  when  I  oblige  men 
of  his  disposition. J  The  advances  you  made  to  him  have  not  yet 
been  repaid  to  me ;  but  I  am  in  no  anxiety.  The  same  is  the  case 
with  M.  de  la  Rouerie. 

"  As  for  you,  mon  cher,  I  intend  to  write  to  you  with  my  own  hand 
as  to  what  I  mean  to  do  for  you.  If  you  know  me  well,  you  must 
expect  me  to  treat  you  as  a  friend.  Your  fate  is  henceforth  attached 
to  mine  for  life.  I  esteem  you  and  love  you,  and  you  will  not  be 
long  receiving  the  proofs.     Recall  me  often  to  the  memory  and  good 

*  As  a  matter  of  course,  we  no  more  adopt  Beaumarchais'  opinion 
with  regard  to  Lee  than  that  of  Lee  with  regard  to  Beaumarchais. 

t  This  was  a  captain's  commission  in  the  sen-ice  of  the  colonies,  which 
Francy  had  asked  Beaumarchais  to  obtain  for  him,  in  order  to  improve 
his  position  in  America.  Francy  had  been  a  naval  cadet.  Beaumar- 
chais obtained  the  commission  he  wished  for,  and  sent  it  to  him  with 
the  letter  which  follows  the  present  one,  accompanied  by  epaulets,  which 
Madame  de  Beaumarchais  made  with  her  own  hands. 

J  Lafayette  was  devoured  by  the  American  usurers.  "He  had,"  to 
use  Beaumarchais'  words,  "  found  Jerusalem  at  Philadelphia."  Francy, 
who  had  formed  an  intimacy  with  the  young  general,  had  not  hesitated 
to  lend  him  money  belonging  to  his  patron. 


BELATIOKS  OF  FRAKCE  WITH  ENGLAKD.       305 

wishes  of  Baron  de  Steuben.  I  congratulate  myself,  from  what  he 
tells  me,  of  having  given  so  great  an  ofBcer  to  my  friends  the  "  free 
men,"  and  having  in  a  certain  way  forced  him  to  follow  this  noble 
career.  I  am  in  no  way  uneasy  about  the  money  I  lent  him  to  start 
with.  Never  did  I  make  so  agreeable  a  use  of  capital,  for  I  have 
put  a  man  of  honor  in  his  true  place.  I  hear  that  he  is  the  inspector- 
general  of  all  the  American  troops !  Bravo !  Tell  him  that  his  glory 
is  the  interest  of  my  money,  and  that  I  do  not  doubt  that  on  those 
terms  he  wUl  pay  me  with  usury. 

"  I  have  received  a  letter  from  M.  Deane,  and  one  from  M.  Car- 
michael ;  assure  them  of  my  affectionate  friendship.*  They  are 
brave  generals,  and  will  be  as  useful  here  to  the  cause  of  their  coun- 
try as  this  intriguing  Lee  is  fatal  to  it.  They  have  both  flattered  me 
that  I  shall  have  the  pleasure  of  embracing  them  soon  at  Paris,  which 
will  not  prevent  me  from  writing  to  them  by  the  '  Fier  Roderigue,' 
very  fier  as  it  will  be,  to  see  itself  at  the  head  of  a  little  squadron 
which  wUl  not  allow  its  mustaches  to  be  cut.  It  has  promised,  on 
the  contrary,  to  bring  me  some  back.f 

"  Farewell,  my  dear  Francy.     I  am  yours  for  life. 

"Gabon  de  Beaumarchais." 


CHAPTER  XrS. 


Relations  of  France  with  England. — Recognition  of  American  Inde- 
pendence.— War  between  England  and  France. — The  "Fier  Roderi- 
gue" in  Action. — Beaumarchais  on  the  Treaty  of  1763. — Congress 
and  the  Supplies. 

In  the  midst  of  the  commercial  preoccupations  of  Beau- 
marchais, and  by  the  very  effect  of  his  armaments,  the  rela- 
tions between  France  and  England  became  worse  and  worse. 
The  success  of  the  American  troops  in  the  campaign  of  1777, 
a  success  to  which  the  author  of  "  The  Barber  of  Seville" 
could  boast  of  having  powerfully  contributed,  had  raised  the 
cause  of  the  insurgents  at  the  court  of  Versailles.  The  min- 
isters did  not  give  any  more  money  to  Beaumarchais,  but  they 

*  Deane  had  been  recalled  to  America  after  the  the  conclusion  of  the 
treaty  of  alliance. 

t  This  "Fier  Roderigue,"  the  largest  of  Beaumarchais'  vessels,  was 
a  three-decker  of  sixty  guns.  It  was  first  of  all  called  the  "  Hippo- 
potamus."   Beaumarchais  recbristened  it  after  reparing  it  throughout. 


306  BEAUMAECHAIS   AXD    HIS    TEVEES. 

secretly  gave  millions  to  Franklin  and  Silas  Deane.  England, 
more  and  more  irritated,  arrogated  the  right  of  searching  our 
merchant  ships  in  full  peace,  of  examining  their  cargoes,  and  of 
taking  possession  of  all  those  which  appeared  to  her  suspicious. 
On  the  other  side,  seeing  F'rance  disposed  to  ally  herself  with 
the  Americans,  she  seemed  at  length  to  renounce  all  hope  of 
overcoming  them,  and  prepared  to  make  terms  ■with  them. 
Secret  emissaries  were  sent  from  London  to  the  American 
agents  in  Paris,  and  the  English  spoke  openly  of  arranging 
any  terms  with  America,  and  afterward  taking  their  revenge 
on  France.  Franklin  and  Silas  Deane,  while  rejecting  the 
propositions  of  the  English  agents,  made  use  of  them  in  treat- 
ing with  the  French  government,  which  it  pressed  to  come  to 
a  decision,  and  to  acknowledge,  in  fine,  the  independence  of 
America.  Louis  XVI.  and  M.  de  Maurepas  hesitated  still : 
the  king,  because  he  did  not  like  war ;  M.  de  Maurepas,  be- 
cause his  great  age  inspired  him  with  strong  repugnance  to 
the  embarrassments  that  war  entails.  M.  de  Yergennes,  sup- 
ported by  M.  de  Sartines,  was  the  most  resolute.  In  the 
month  of  August,  1777,  in  reply  to  an  insidious  proposition 
from  England,  asking  France  to  sign  a  treaty  for  guarantee- 
ing the  security  of  the  possessions  of  the  two  kingdoms  in 
America,  the  minister  wrote  to  the  king  this  note,  which  to 
the  present  time  has  remained  unpublished : 

"  An  agreement  for  insuring  the  possessions  of  the  two  crowns  in 
America  seems  equally  unbecoming  and  useless.  It  would  be  tying 
our  hands,  and  placing  in  the  hands  of  our  enemy  a  rod  always  raised, 
of  which  we  should  feel  the  formidable  effects  each  time  she  wished 
to  extort  from  us  some  unjust  and  fresh  concessions. 

"  If  condescension  does  not  satisfy  England,  she  ought  no  longer 
to  have  a  choice,  and  it  would  be  prudent,  at  all  events,  to  give  from 
to-day  secret  orders  to  all  our  commissioners  at  the  sea-ports  not 
to  dispatch  the  French  vessels  that  may  be  preparing  to  leave,  under 
various  pretexts,  which  may  be  prolonged  for  a  fortnight,  to  send  ves- 
sels with  intelligence  to  Newfoundland,  to  the  great  Bank,  to  our 
islands,  and  to  the  Levant,  that  they  may  be  on  their  guard  there, 
and  not  rashly  expose  themselves  to  the  uncertainty  of  events."* 

Beaumarchais,  convinced  on  his  side  that  the  prolonged  in- 

*  England,  in  the  preceding  war,  had  taught  us  to  mistrust  her  by 
attacking  our  vessels  suddenly  and  without  a  declaration  of  war. 


EECOGNinON    OF   AMERICAN   EOJEPENDENCE.  307 

decision  of  the  government  in  acknowledging  the  independ- 
ence of  America  might  bring  on  peace  between  England  and 
America  at  the  expense  of  France,  besieged  M.  de  Maurepas 
and  M.  de  Yergennes  with  voluminous  memorials,  in  which 
he  showed,  with  his  usual  petulance,  the  imperious  alternative 
which  it  was  necessary  to  adopt.  In  one  of  these  unpublished 
Memorials,  dated  October  26,  1777,  entitled  '■^Private  Memo- 
rial for  the  Ministers  of  the  King  and  Manifesto  for  the  State," 
the  agent  for  the  Americans,  after  examining  every  side  of  the 
question,  and  proving  that  the  system  of  inaction  ought  not  to 
be  continued,  draws  up,  -with  the  decision  which  characterizes 
him,  a  rough  draft  of  a  manifesto  for  the  king,  Louis  XVI., 
in  case  he  should  at  length  decide  to  acknowledge  the  inde- 
"^  pendence  of  the  United  States ;  and  what  is  rather  curious  is, 
that,  taking  it  altogether,  the- substance  of  this  sketch,  pro- 
posed by  Beaumarchais  the  26th  October,  1777,  is  found 
again  in  the  ofl&cial  declaration  notified  by  the  French  gov- 
ernment to  the  court  of  London  the  13th  March,  1778.  After 
having  draAvn  up  his  manifesto,  Beaumarchais  begins  to  set 
forth  what  measures  should  be  taken,  and  discusses  the  opin- 
ion of  each  minister  just  as  if  he  formed  part  of  the  council. 
It  appears,  moreover,  that  he  only  continued  in  writing  a  dis- 
cussion commenced  without  doubt  in  his  presence  at  the  house 
of  M.  de  Maurepas.  It  is  not  one  of  the  least  strange  things 
of  this  period  to  see  the  author  of  "  The  Barber  of  Seville" 
deliberating  in  a  certain  way  with  the  ministers,  saying,  "  I 
should  do,"  &c.,  and  putting  himself  with  naivete  in  the  place 
of  the  King  of  France. 

The  government  did  a  portion  of  what  Beaumarchais  ad- 
vised, and,  at  the  same  time  that  they  notified  to  the  court  of 
London  the  recognition  of  American  independence,  they  con- 
cluded secretly  at  Paris  a  treaty  of  alliance  with  the  agents 
of  the  new  state,  and  sent  ]^.  Gerard  to  Philadelphia,  in  the 
capacity  of  minister  plenipotentiary,  to  hasten  the  ratification 
of  this  treaty. 

The  court  of  London,  considering  the  recognition  of  the  in- 
dependence of  the  United  States  as  a  declaration  of  war,  re- 
called their  embassador,  and  the  two  nations  prepared  for  the 
struggle.     The  first  shot  was  fired  by  England,  June  18,  1778. 


308  BEALMARCHAIS    AXD    HIS   TIJIES. 

Admiral  Keppel,  cruising  with  a  fleet  in  sight  of  the  coasts  of 
France,  off  Morlaix,  encountered  the  frigate  "  La  Belle  Poule," 
commanded  by  Lieutenant  Chadeau  de  la  Clocheterie  ;  he  sent 
forward  an  English  frigate  to  order  the  French  oflftcer  to  come 
to  the  poop  of  his  vessel  to  be  examined.  La  Clocheterie  re- 
plied that  he  had  no  examination  to  undergo  on  the  part  of 
an  English  admiral.  The  English  frigate  replied  by  firing  a 
cannon.  La  Clocheterie  returned  vnth  his  whole  broadside. 
The  action  commenced  between  the  two  frigates  in  sight  of  the 
squadron.  In  a  short  time  the  English  frigate  was  disabled. 
Admiral  Keppel  then  sent  two  vessels  against  "La  Belle 
Poule,"  which  retired  before  superior  force,  and  entered  Brest 
with  twenty-five  men  killed  and  fifty-seven  wounded. 

This  first  exchange  of  shots  was  received  in  France  with 
shouts  of  enthusiasm.  The  utility  of  this  war  and  its  results 
for  America  have  since  been  often  discussed ;  it  is  certain  that 
the  English  power  was  not  so  much  weakened  as  had  been  an- 
ticipated by  the  separation  of  the  colonies ;  it  is  not  less  certain 
that  the  Americans  have  not  always  shown  their  gratitude  for 
the  considerable  sacrifices  France  made  for  them  at  this  period ; 
but,  beyond  the  question  of  utility,  there  was  then  a  question 
of  sentiment,  Avhich  was  placed  before  every  thing  by  a  nation 
which  had  not  yet  been  destroyed  by  fifty  years  of  revolution- 
ary crises,  and  the  government  was  irresistibly  drawn  on  by 
public  opinion. 

To  the  impulses  of  national  pride,  wounded  by  the  humili- 
ating treaty  of  1763,  and  by  the  arrogance  of  the  court  of 
London,  was  added  the  admiration  which  the  "  insurgents"  in- 
spired. These  men,  seen  from  a  distance,  struggling  in  the 
name  of  right  against  might,  seemed  greater  than  ordinary 
men ;  and  England,  toward  whom,  in  our  alternations  be- 
tween fever  and  atony,  every  one  turns  now  with  looks  of 
envy  who  loves  order  and  liberty  with  equal  ardor ;  England, 
who  now  fights  with  us  against  the  brute  force  of  Eussia,  and 
whose  alliance  is  justly  considered  by  aU  as  the  supporting 
point  of  civilization  ;  England  had  then  against  her  not  only 
the  old  popular  prejudice,  but  the  aversion  with  which  eleva- 
ted minds  are  always  filled  by  a  policy  which  is  unjust,  ego- 
tistical, and  oppressive. 


LETTEB   TO   THE   MDOSTEK  OF   MAKIKE.  309 

Beaumarchais  prepared,  on  his  part,  to  carry  on  war  and 
commerce  at  the  same  time.  In  the  first  place,  we  find  him 
applying  for  sailors  to  the  minister  of  marine,  M.  de  Sartines, 
for  the  service  of  his  large  vessel. 

"Paris,  December  12,  1778. 

"  Sir, — I  have  the  honor  to  request  a  fresh  letter  to  M.  de  Marchais, 
without  which  he  swears  to  the  great  gods  he  will  not  give  a  single 
man  to  the  '  Fier  Roderigue,'  which  would  become  soon  '  L'humble 
Roderigue,'  for  it  can  only  be  proud  through  your  favors ;  besides 
the  order  for  giving  me  cannons,  cannon  balls,  &c.,  &c.,  by  way  of 
compensation,  in  place  of  that  hard  word  ready  money,  with  which 
we  are  reproached,  while  we  have  our  hands  full  of  lawful  claims — 
the  clearest  possible — and  are  asking  to  be  paid  for  the  advances  we 
have  made,  and  for  our  supphes  to  the  navy. 

"  I  can  not  believe,  sir,  that  I  am  to  be  worse  treated  than  the 
lowest  privateersman  because  I  am  the  boldest.  I  am  going  to 
cruise  across  the  ocean,  to  convoy,  attack,  bum,  or  take  private  ves- 
sels, and,  because  I  have  sixty  guns  and  160  feet  of  keel,  I  am  to  be 
worse  treated  than  those  who  can  not  in  any  way  come  up  to  us.  I 
have  too  much  confidence  in  your  justice  to  fear  it.  My  '  Fier 
Roderigue'  is  absolutely  fitted  out  for  war,  and  carries  no  cargo. 
While  the  others  will  be  unloading  and  loading,  he  will  cruise  fear- 
lessly, and  sweep  the  American  seas.  This,  sir,  is  his  true  destina- 
tion. See  yourself  whether  your  wise  order  is  less  applicable  to  it 
than  to  all  the  projected  frigates  which  are  yet  in  the  wUds  of  the 
imagination,  while  the  '  Fier  Roderigue'  is  ready  to  plow  the  Atlantic 
as  soon  as  you  will  permit  him  to  have  saUors. 

"  If  I  presented  myself  before  you  to-day,  and  had  the  honor  to 
propose  to  you  to  construct  and  fit  out  a  vessel  of  this  importance, 
always  fit  to  take  the  place  of  a  king's  ship  wherever  I  sent  it,  do 
you  think,  sir,  you  would  refuse  it  guns,  and  the  title  of  captain  for 
its  commander  ■?  Such  feeble  encouragements  for  such  great  objects 
would  be  nothing  in  your  eyes.  How,  then,  can  it  be  less  valuable 
to  you,  being  already  built,  than  if  it  had  to  be  constructed  ? 

"  I  ask  your  pardon,  but  the  multiplicity  of  the  affairs  which  occupy 
you  may  have  prevented  your  seeing  the  importance  of  my  arma- 
ment, which  is  destined  for  the  triple  object  of  encouraging  the  com- 
merce of  France  by  my  example  and  my  success,  supplying  provisions 
openly  or  secretly  to  the  islands  which  have  the  greatest  want  of 
them,  and  conducting  to  the  continent  of  America,  during  the  most 
stormy  times,  a  French  merchant  fleet  suflSciently  important  for  the 
United  States  to  judge  by  this  effort  of  the  great  desire  France  has 
to  support  our  new  ties  of  commerce  with  them. 

"  I  present  these  grave  objects  to  your  wise  consideration ;  there 


310  BEAUMARCHAIS  AND    HIS   TIMES. 

are  none,  I  venture  to  say,  more  worthy  of  the  protection  of  so  en- 
lightened a  minister. 

"  Accept,  sir,  &c.,  Caron  de  Beaumarchais." 

The  "Fier  Eoderigue"  sailed,  then,  with  its  sixty  guns,  con- 
voying ten  merchant  vessels.  Off  the  island  of  Grenada  it 
met  the  fleet  of  Admiral  d'Estaing,  -who  was  preparing  to  give 
battle  to  that  of  the  English  Admiral  Biron.  On  seeing  this 
fine  vessel  of  war  pass  at  a  distance,  strutting  before  the  wind, 
he  signaled  to  it  to  come  up ;  learning  that  it  belonged  to  his 
majesty,  Caron  de  Beaumarchais,  he  said  it  would  be  a  pity 
not  to  take  advantage  of  it,  and,  considering  the  urgency  of 
the  case,  assigned  it  its  post  in  the  battle  without  asking  for 
the  authorization  of  its  proprietor,  leaving  to  the  mercy  of  the 
waves  and  the  English  the  unfortunate  merchant  vessels  which 
this  war-ship  protected.  The  "Fier  Roderigue"  resigned  him- 
self bravely  to  his  fate,  took  a  glorious  share  in  the  battle  of 
Grenada,  and  contributed  in  forcing  Admiral  Biron  to  retreat ; 
but  the  captain  was  killed,  and  the  ship  riddled  with  balls. 
The  very  evening  of  the  fight.  Count  d'Estaing,  feeling  the  ne- 
cessity of  consoling  Beaumarchais,  wrote  to  him  from  on 
board  the  admiral's  ship,  and  sent  him,  through  the  minister 
of  marine,  the  following  unpublished  letter,  which  it  is  not 
usual  to  meet  with  in  the  archives  of  a  dramatic  author: 

"  On  board  the  '  Languedoc,'  Roadstead  of  St.  George,! 
"Isle  of  Grenada,  July  12,  1TT9.  J 

"  I  have  only  time,  sir,  to  write  to  you  that '  Le  Fier  Roderigue' 
has  acted  well  in  line,  and  contributed  to  the  success  of  the  king's 
arms.  You  will  pardon  me  the  more  for  having  employed  the  ship 
so  well,  as  your  interests  will  not  suffer — be  certain  of  that.  The 
brave  M.  de  Montaut*  has  unfortunately  been  killed.  I  shall  address 
immediately  to  the  minister  the  claims  to  rewards,  and  I  hope  you 
will  assist  me  in  soliciting  those  your  navy  has  so  justly  merited. 

"  I  have  the  honor  to  be,  with  all  the  sentiments  you  know  so  well 
how  to  inspire,  sir,  your  very  humble  and  very  obedient  servant, 

"  ESTAING." 

The  minister  of  marine  hastened  to  send  this  letter  to  Beau- 
marchais, who  replied  as  follows  to  the  minister : 

"  Paris,  September  7,  1770. 

"  Sir, — I  return  you  thanks  for  having  sent  me  the  letter  from 
*  He  was  the  captain  of  the  "Fier  Roderigue." 


BEAUMAKCHAIS'    INDEMNITY-  311 

Count  d'Estaing.  It  is  very  noble  in  him,  in  the  moment  of  his  tri- 
umph, to  have  thought  that  a  word  from  his  hand  would  be  agreeable 
to  me.  I  take  the  liberty  of  sending  you  a  copy  of  his  short  letter, 
of  which,  like  a  good  Frenchman  as  I  am,  I  am  proud,  and  at  which 
I  rejoice  as  a  passionate  lover  of  my  country  against  proud  England. 

"  The  brave  Montaut  thought  he  could  not  do  better  to  prove  that 
he  was  not  unworthy  of  the  post  with  which  he  was  honored  than  by 
losing  his  life ;  whatever  may  be  the  consequence  to  my  affairs,  my 
poor  friend  Montaut  has  died  on  the  bed  of  honor,  and  I  feel  a  child- 
ish joy  at  being  certain  that  those  English,  who  have  so  cut  me  up 
in  their  papers  for  four  years,  will  read  therein  that  one  of  my  ves- 
sels has  contributed  to  take  from  them  the  most  fertile  of  their  pos- 
sessions. 

"And  the  enemies  of  M.  d'Estaing,  and  yours  especially,  sir,  I 
see  them  biting  their  nails,  and  my  heart  leaps  with  joy.  You  know 
my  tender  and  respectful  devotion.  Beaumarchais." 

However,  the  joy  of  the  patriot  was  somewhat  toned  down 
by  the  anguish  of  the  merchant.  The  report  of  the  second  in 
command  of  the  "  Fier  Roderigue,"  who  had  taken  the  com- 
mand after  the  death  of  his  chief,  arrived  at  the  same  time  as 
the  letter  of  Admiral  d'Estaing.  This  report  was  also  very 
satisfactory  as  regarded  Beaumarchais'  glory,  but  it  was  very 
unsatisfactory  as  regarded  his  coffers.  Under  these  circum- 
stances, the  shipowner  WTOte  to  the  King  the  following  letter : 

"  September  11,  1TT9. 

"  Sire, — I  am  not  going  to  ask  you  for  the  reward  of  my  labors ; 
your  wise  ministers  know  that  my  chief  happiness  would  be  that  they 
should  all  be  useful  to  your  majesty. 

"  I  do  not  ask  you  for  what  the  cruise  of  the  '  Fier  Roderigue' 
has  cost,  feeling  too  much  honored  that  a  vessel  of  mine  should  have 
merited  the  praise  of  the  admiral  by  fighting  in  line  with  a  victori- 
ous squadron. 

"  But,  sire,  war  is  a  game  of  kings,  which  crushes  individuals,  and 
scatters  them  like  the  dust.  The  '  Fier  Roderigue'  was  convoying 
ten  other  ships,  which  were  destined  for  commercial  operations 
equally  useful  to  the  state  in  another  form. 

"The  death  of  my  first  captain,  thirty-five  men  unable  to  serve, 
the  destruction  of  my  vessel,  the  worst  used  of  the  squadron  (having 
had  three  shots  in  the  side,  four  in  the  water-line,  two  of  which  went 
completely  through ;  five  in  the  masts,  which  damaged  them  much ; 
one  in  the  large  pump,  which  split  it  to  pieces ;  forty  in  the  sails, 
which  have  riddled  them ;  and  the  remainder  in  the  cordage,  which 
have  cut  it  to  atoms)  ;  the  entire  removal  of  sailors  from  where  my 


312  BEAUMARCHAIS   AND   HIS   TIMES. 

Other  vessels  were  put  on  their  arrival  at  Port  Royal  in  order  to  com- 
plete the  crews  of  the  squadron ;  the  order  given  to  the  '  Fier  Rod- 
erigue'  to  repair  and  follow  the  squadron ;  the  necessity  I  am  under 
of  sending  fresh  instructions  to  the  new  commander  of  my  fleet,  and 
the  impossibility  for  more  than  three  months  of  this  merchant  fleet, 
w-hich  has  already  lost  eleven  of  its  number,  sailing  under  convoy  of 
the  '  Fier  Roderigue'  for  its  true  destination :  all  this,  sire,  ruining 
my  cruise,  my  advances  for  which  have  been  enormous,  and  post- 
poning the  returns  which  should  now  have  arrived,  force  me  to  im- 
plore the  assistance  of  your  majesty. 

"  Let  me  not  perish,  sire,  and  I  am  satisfied.  The  service  that  I 
ask  is  of  slight  importance. 

"  They  inform  me  at  Grenada  that  they  will  draw  upon  me  at 
sight  for  90,000  livres,  for  the  necessary  repairs  of  the  '  Fier  Rod- 
erigue.' 

"  Out  of  upward  of  two  millions  that  I  have  advanced  this  year  to 
my  fleet,  there  only  remains  to  be  paid  a  hundred  thousand  crowns, 
half  the  25th  of  this  month,  and  half  the  10th  of  October.  I  suppli- 
cate your  majesty  to  have  the  goodness  to  order  that  this  small  sum 
of  400,000  livres  may  be  lent  me  from  the  royal  treasury  for  some 
months  only.  M.  le  Comte  de  Maurepas  knows  by  the  experience 
of  his  own  kindness  to  me  that  I  am  faithful  to  my  engagements. 

"  On  the  arrival  of  considerable  funds  which  I  expect  from  ]\Iar- 
tinique,  where  my  supplies  have  been  sold,  I  will  repay  to  the  treas- 
ury both  capital  and  interest. 

"  It  will  not  be  until  after  a  calculation,  impossible  now,  which  will 
place  before  the  minister  my  real  losses,  that  I  shall  invoke  the  just- 
ice of  your  majesty  for  their  reimbursement ;  but  it  is  in  the  light  of 
a  favor  that  I  ask  for  the  present  loan  of  400,000  livres,  which  the 
havoc  in  this  cruise  renders  indispensable  to  prevent  the  destruction 
of  one  of  the  most  faithful  of  your  majesty's  subjects,  whose  ruin 
would  bring  on  a  general  discouragement.* 

"  Caron  du  Beaumarchais." 

At  the  same  time,  Beaumarchais  got  his  second  in  command 

*  Beaumarchais  received  this  advance  of  400,000  li\Tes  as  an  install- 
ment upon  an  indemnity  of  a  more  considerable  amount,  of  which  the 
figure  had  yet  to  be  decided.  It  was  fixed  by  three  fermiers-giineraux 
appointed  by  the  minister.  The  ten  vessels  convoyed  by  the  "Fier 
Roderigue"  had  been  dispersed,  and  the  greater  part  of  them  taken  by 
the  English,  so  that  the  losses  of  Beaumarchais  in  this  voyage  were 
enormous,  and,  after  many  discussions,  the  indemnity  was  fixed  at  two 
millions,  payable  in  several  installments,  which  he  received  in  succes- 
sion, and  the  last  of  which  was  paid  him,  as  we  shall  see,  on  his  leav- 
ing the  prison  of  Saint-Lazare. 


BEAUSIAECHAIS    AND    d'eSTAING.  313 

decorated  with  the  cross  of  St.  Louis,  and  procured  the  admis- 
sion into  the  military  marine  of  one  of  his  officers,  who  was 
afterward  an  admiral.  ' 

Soon  afterward  the  Count  d'Estaing,  who  had  given  such  a 
glorious  account  of  the  vessel  belonging  to  the  author  of  "The 
Barber,"  returned  to  France.  Beaumarchais  hastened  to  pre- 
sent his  respects  to  him ;  the  admiral  was  absent,  and  to  ex- 
cuse his  absence  wrote  to  the  owner  of  the  "  Fier  Eoderio-ue" 
this  facetious  letter : 

"  For  a  vice-admiral  who  is  perhaps  out  of  favor,  having  taken  too 
much  upon  himself,  having  used,  abused  even  the  naval  forces  of  M . 
de  Beaumarchais,  not  to  receive  the  visit  of  his  sovereign,  is  what 
was  never  heard  of;  it  is  much  against  my  will  that  it  has  been  so. 
The  excessive  kindness  with  which  the  aquatic  Jeannot  had  been 
honored  the  evening  before  by  a  number  of  unexpected  visits  had 
made  him  close  his  door,  without  foreseeing  one  which  would  have 
caused  him  so  much  pleasure. 

"  M.  d'Estaing  begs  M.  de  Beaumarchais  to  receive  his  excuses 
and  his  regrets ;  they  are  the  greater  from  the  fact  that  he  is  obliged 
to  go  limping  about  Versailles  for  some  days.  The  surgeons  assure 
him  that,  in  virtue  of  staircases  and  bows,  he  will  come  back  disa- 
bled for  at  least  three  weeks.  If  it  be  not  so,  he  will  request  a  meet- 
ing at  Paris ;  otherwise  he  wiU  try  to  procure,  by  means  of  a  letter, 
a  visit  which  is  of  so  much  interest  to  him. 

"Passy,  December  26,  1779." 

To  this  Beaumarchais  replied  immediately  in  the  same  tone : 

"December  27,  1779. 

"  Very  worthy  and  much  respected  admiral,  who  may  be  attacked, 
but  can  never  be  out  of  favor — as  you  have  only  made  use  of  the  navy 
belonging  to  me,  a  sovereign,  in  the  service  of  another  who  is  equal- 
ly powerful  and  just — let  us  hope  he  will  do  justice  to  us  both  in 
loading  you  with  honors  and  in  repairing  my  losses. 

"  You  shall  receive,  whenever  you  please,  homage  from  me,  a 
sovereign  and  your  servant,  who  did  not  wait  for  your  great  exploits 
to  appreciate  you,  and  who  have  fought  a  hundred  times  with  my 
tongue  against  the  army  of  scoundrels  who  were  speaking  ill  of  you, 
while  you  were  using  your  sword  so  nobly  against  the  enemies  of  the 
state.  The  first  thing  necessary  is  to  re-estabUsh  your  health,  of 
which  we  have  great  need  ;  and  if  by  chance  you  have  formed  the 
project  of  writing  an  explanation  of  your  warlike  conduct,  as  people 
seek  to  insinuate,  I  entreat  you  to  reject  this  idea  with  the  sign  of  the 
cross  as  a  temptation  of  the  devil's.     I  conjure  you  to  do  so,  and  do 

o 


314  BEAUMARCHAIS  AND   HIS  TIMES. 

SO  in  the  name  of  all  who  honor  you,  and  especially  in  that  of  a  cel- 
ebrated old  man  who  loves  you,  and  who  burns  to  see  you  seated  by 
his  side,  with  a  baton  in  your  hand,  at  the  great  tribunal  of  honor,  of 
which  you  so  gloriously  fulfill  the  duties.* 

"  I  take  the  liberty,  in  order  that  you  may  keep  away  spleen,  of 
forwarding  to  you  my  last  political  production,  which  has  not  had  the 
good  luck  of  pleasing  every  body.  When  you  can  grant  me  a  quar- 
ter of  an  hour,  you  may  be  quite  sure  of  overwhelming  with  joy  him 
who  is,  with  the  most  respectful  devotion,  at  the  end  as  at  the  be- 
ginning, and  during  the  whole  course  of  his  life,  worthy  and  respect- 
ed admiral, 

"  Your  very  humble  servant,  Beaumarchais." 

The  little  work  which  Beaumarchais  sent  to  the  Admiral 
d'Estaing  to  "keep  away  spleen"  was  a  very  serious  one, 
which  was  about  to  procure  him  both  glory  and  renown. 
While  exchanging  cannon  shots,  England  and  France  also  ex- 
changed manifestoes.  The  court  of  London  had  employed  the 
pen  of  the  historian  Gibbon  to  announce  to  the  whole  world 
the  perfidy  of  the  cabinet  of  Versailles.  Forgetting  its  own 
history,  which  was  full  of  diplomatic  artifices  of  the  same  de- 
scription, and  much  graver  ones,  the  English  government  ex- 
aggerated and  misrepresented  the  very  small  part  that  the 
court  of  France  had  taken  in  sending  supplies  to  the  Ameri- 
cans before  the  rupture  between  the  two  governments.  Beau- 
marchais, who  had  just  figured  in  the  struggle  with  his  cannon 
shots,  thought  he  ought  to  interfere  in  it  with  his  pen.  He 
was  in  some  measure  authorized  in  doing  so,  for  the  justifica- 
tory address  from  the  court  of  London,  while  reproaching  the 
French  minister  with  having  protected  a  commercial  company 
directed  by  Beaumarchais,  attacked  the  latter  personally  in  a 
very  warm  manner.  In  asking  the  minister  permission  to  re- 
ply in  his  own  name,  Beaumarchais  wrote,  "  If  it  will  be  with- 
out importance  as  coming  from  a  private  person,  it  will  not, 
perhaps,  be  without  force  as  coming  from  a  person  who  has 
been  insulted."  He  obtained  this  permission,  and  in  Decem- 
ber, 1779,  published,  under  the  title  of  "Observations  upon 
the  Justificatory  Address  from  the  Court  of  London,"  a  pam- 

*  This,  no  doubt,  refers  to  M.  de  Maurepas,  who  wished  Admiral 
d'Estaing  to  be  silent  in  reference  to  the  criticisms  of  which  his  cruise 
had  been  the  subject. 


BEAOIAECHAIS  ON  THE  TREATY  OF  1763.      315 

phlet,  which  has  been  inserted  in  the  collection  of  his  works, 
and  of  which,  consequently,  we  will  speak  but  little.  This 
pamphlet,  wTitten  with  his  characteristic  veite,  which,  with 
some  negligences  of  style,  is  always  animated,  made  a  rather 
great  sensation.  He  placed,  in  his  turn,  in  the  strongest  light, 
all  the  ancient  perfidiousness  of  the  English  government — all 
the  annoyances  to  which  it  had  subjected  our  commerce  for 
three  years,  the  patience  with  which  the  French  court  had 
borne  them,  and  even  how  it  had  contributed  to  them  more 
than  once  to  please  Lord  Stormont.  Unfortunately,  the  au- 
thor, drawn  on  by  the  vivacity  of  his  pen,  had  committed  a 
serious  error :  in  dwelling  upon  the  humiliating  conditions  of 
the  treaty  imposed  by  England  in  1763,  after  the  seven  years' 
war,  he  had  accepted,  without  verification,  a  very  widely- 
spread  opinion  that  there  existed  in  this  treaty  a  secret  arti- 
cle, by  which  France  shamefully  granted  to  England  the  right 
to  limit  the  number  of  her  vessels ;  and,  under  the  impression  of 
this  fact,  which  Beaumarchais  believed  true,  he  wrote  the  fol- 
lowing lines  :  "  My  courage  revived  when  I  thought  that  my 
country  would  be  avenged  for  the  degradation  to  which  its  en- 
emy had  subjected  her  in  fixing,  by  the  treaty  of  1763,  the 
small  number  of  vessels  which  it  condescended  still  to  allow 
her." 

On  reading  this  phrase,  the  Duke  de  Choiseul  and  all  the 
old  ministers  of  Louis  XV.  who  had  signed  the  fatal  treaty  of 
1763,  and  who  felt  themselves  already  sufficiently  humiliated 
by  the  actual  clauses  of  this  treaty,  eagerly  had  recourse  to 
the  king,  invoking  justice  against  a  writer  who  sought  to  dis- 
honor them ;  they  demanded  that  the  pamphlet  of  Beaumar- 
chais should  be  suppressed  by  an  order  in  council  as  false  and 
calumnious.  The  assertion  of  Beaumarchais  had  been  made 
in  good  faith — it  had  even  been  published  before  by  French  and 
English  writers.  He  proposed  a  correction  of  the  statement ; 
the  Duke  de  Choiseul  insisted  upon  a  suppression  in  due  form. 
The  council  of  ministers  met,  and  it  was  under  these  circum- 
stances that  the  author  of  the  pamphlet  addressed  to  all  the 
assembled  ministers  an  unpublished  letter,  which  appears  to 
me  sulficiently  original  in  tone  to  deserve  reproduction : 


316  BEAUMARCHAIS   AND   HIS  TIMES. 

''  December  19,  1779. 

"  My  Lords, — If  a  warrior  who  fights  for  his  country  ought  not  to 
receive  from  it  a  degrading  blow,  because  the  inequality  of  the  ground 
may  have  made  him  stumble  an  instant,  is  it  justice  of  the  king  to 
class  among  the  list  of  scandalous  libelers,  whose  works  are  sup- 
pressed by  decrees,  a  writer  who  repels  with  force  and  dignity  the 
foul  imputations  of  the  enemies  of  his  country,  because  he  has  fallen, 
with  a  hundred  thousand  others,  into  an  involuntary  error,  which  it 
would  be  easy,  and  even  advantageous,  to  correct  with  dignity  1 

"  When  a  man  who  has  aspired  only  to  the  honor  of  being  in  the 
right,  does  not  blush  to  own  his  error  publicly,  and  to  extract  from  it 
a  great  advantage  for  the  cause  which  he  is  defending,  what  incon- 
venience is  there  in  letting  him  correct  himself? 

"  What  can  have  a  better  effect  in  counteracting  a  doubtful  asser- 
tion than  the  free  and  plain  disavowal  of  it  by  its  author,  when  he 
can  spread  that  as  rapidly  as  the  original  work  1 

"  And  ought  you  to  reserve  for  zeal,  industry,  and  patriotism,  the 
dishonor  of  suppression,  intended  to  punish  the  voluntary  misdeeds 
of  rotten  culprits  and  impenitent  sinners  1 

"  Before  treating  me  with  this  cruelty,  I  implore  the  king's  minis- 
ters to  read  what  I  am  sending  to  the  '  Courier  de  I'Europe'  and  to 
the  '  Nord.'  The  same  thing,  in  substance,  will  be  put  at  the  same 
time  in  all  the  public  papers,  w'ith  a  promise  to  those  who  will  remit 
to  me  the  faulty  copy,  to  give  them  in  place  two  corrected  ones. 

"  I  entreat  them  also  to  consider  that  to  throw  discredit  on  such  a 
production  by  the  stigma  of  a  seizure  is  to  take  from  it  all  that  it 
contains  of  good  and  praiseworthy,  and  to  give  to  the  reproach  of  per- 
fidy, contained  in  the  English  manifesto,  the  greatest  force,  by  the 
disavowal  of  the  principal  points  in  the  answer. 

"  From  the  grief  which  I  feel  beforehand,  I  feel  that  I  can  not 
support  the  odious  effect  of  such  a  thing.  My  head  is  leaving  me, 
and  I  have  passed  a  most  dreadful  night. 

"I  have  received  this  instant  from  a  relation  ofM.  de  Choiseul's  a 
copy  annotated  on  the  margin  in  his  own  hand,  and  with  these  words 
at  page  35  :  '  This  fact  is  false  and  absurd.''  These  are  exactly  the 
terms  in  your  proposed  arret.    It  is  he,  then,  who  has  dictated  them ! 

"  False !  the  expression  is  just,  since  the  fact  is  not  true  ;  but  ab- 
surd !  After  Dunkerque  and  its  English  commissioner,  dare  they, 
without  lowering  their  eyes,  characterize  as  absurd  any  naval  fact 
which  concerns  us,  however  hard  it  may  be  1 

"  To  destroy  a  port  of  France  at  ten  leagues  from  the  enemy  by 
their  order,  and  to  keep  it  in  ruins  under  the  shameful  inspection  of 
their  commissioner,  is  truly  absurd.  Yet  this  has  been  the  case  for 
the  last  hundred  years  beneatli  the  eyes  of  an  indignant  country. 


BEAtTMARCHAIS   TO  THE   MINISTEES.  317 

"  I  speak  to  French  hearts ;  I  ought  to  be  heard.  Ah !  leave  me, 
my  lords,  leave  me,  I  conjure  you,  to  retrieve  my  error.  I  can  do  it, 
honorably,  and  with  advantage ;  but  I  feel  sure,  from  what  I  suffer, 
that  I  shall  die  of  grief  if  you  have  the  cruelty  to  deliver  my  person 
and  my  work  to  the  degradation  of  a  public  stigma. 

"  It  will  only  remain  for  my  friends  to  print  the  twelve  or  fifteen 
hundred  flattering  letters  that  I  have  received  during  the  last  six 
days,  in  which  the  hearts  of  good  citizens  are  plainly  shown  in  the 
vivacity  of  their  thanks  : 

"  In  which  one  says, '  I  shall  put  this  production  in  a  separate  case, 
with  Tacitus,  the  Cardinal  de  Retz,  Price,  and  Sidney,  for  no  monu- 
ment so  noble,  so  worthy  of  the  nation,  will  honor  present  events :' 

"  In  which  another  writes, '  The  author  is  intoxicated  with  patriot- 
ism ;  his  pen  sparkles.  It  is,  then,  true  that  man  only  does  grand 
things  when  he  is  animated  by  noble  passions :' 

"  In  which  a  third  owns  '  that  he  had  never  understood  the  ques- 
tion well,  and  that,  till  I  wrote,  every  body  said  France  was  wrong, 
but  that  now  opinions  are  settled  :' 

"  In  which  all  the  writers  thank  me  for  my  zeal  and  courage,  in  a 
country  where  so  few  people  are  to  show  it,  for  the  glory  of  France. 
These  letters  of  my  fellow-citizens  would  show  that  such  a  wayward- 
ness is  attached  to  my  fate  that  I  can  never  undertake  any  good 
without  its  bringing  me  harm.  He  has  wished,  they  will  say,  to 
work,  to  arm  his  country — they  have  stopped  his  expeditions ;  he  has 
wished  to  write,  to  defend  the  honor  of  France — they  have  suppress- 
ed his  works.  His  nation  esteemed  him,  and  authority  crushed  him. 
He  had  no  choice,  then,  but  to  die  or  flee.  From  mercy,  from  hu- 
manity, if  I  can  not  obtain  it  by  justice,  do  not  break  my  heart  by  a 
suppression,  while  you  tolerate  a  Linguet.  He  has  insulted  you  aU, 
I  have  respected  you  aU ;  he  has  made  an  attack  upon  you,  I  have 
only  made  observations.  What  a  difference  in  the  work  and  in  the 
reward ! 

"  If  this  horrible  order  is  hurled  at  me,  I  shall  look  upon  myself  as 
a  limb  cut  off,  dead,  and  no  longer  belonging  to  any  thing ;  and  will 
owe  nothing  more  to  France  but  extreme  unction  or  a  passport. 

"  I  ask  pardon,  but  I  am  in  despair. 

"  Caron  de  Beaumahchais." 

The  passage  which  had  wounded  the  Duke  de  Choiseul 
was  suppressed,  but  without  any  remark  that  could  be  morti- 
fying to  Beaumarchais,  whose  pamphlet  reappeared  with  this 
corrected  passage,  which  still  told  severely  against  the  signers 
of  the  treaty  of  1763:  "My  courage  revives  when  I  think 
that  my  country  will  be  avenged  for  the  degradation  to  which 


318  BEAUMABCHAIS   AND   HIS   TIMES. 

it  was  subjected  by  the  treaty  of  1763 ;  that  the  dark  veil,  the 
funeral  crape  with  which  our  port  of  I>unkerque  has  been  envel- 
oped these  sixty  years  will  at  length  he  rent" 

Meanwhile  Beaumarchais,  whether  warring  with  the  can- 
non or  with  the  pen,  had  still  to  wait  for  payment  for  his  sup- 
plies. During  two  years  and  a  half  the  Congress  had  determ- 
ined to  consider  him  as  a  man  who  was  too  happy  to  send  to 
them  gratuitously.  It  had  only  replied  to  his  claims  by  the 
most  disdainful  silence,  when  on  a  lucky  day  he  received  the 
following  letter,  which,  taken  in  connection  with  the  cele- 
brated letter  of  Admiral  d'Estaing,  which  we  have  previously 
cited,  adds  another  strange  incident  to  his  career. 

"  By  express  Order  of  the  Congress  sitting  at  Philadelphia,  to 
M.  de  Beaumarchais. 

"  Sir, — The  Congress  of  the  United  States  of  America,  grateful 
for  the  great  efforts  you  have  made  in  their  favor,  presents  you  its 
thanks  and  the  assurance  of  its  esteem.  It  grieves  for  the  misfor- 
tunes you  have  suffered  in  support  of  its  States.  Unfortunate  cir- 
cumstances have  prevented  the  accomplishment  of  its  desires ;  but  it 
will  take  the  promptest  measures  for  acquitting  itself  of  the  debts  it 
has  contracted  with  you. 

"  The  generous  sentiments  and  the  exalted  views  which  alone 
could  dictate  a  conduct  such  as  yours,  are  your  greatest  eulogium, 
and  are  an  honor  to  your  character.  While,  by  your  great  talents, 
you  have  rendered  yourself  useful  to  your  prince,  you  have  gained 
the  esteem  of  this  rising  repubUc,  and  merited  the  deserved  applause 
of  the  New  World,  John  Jay,  President." 

After  two  years  and  a  half  spent  in  the  service  of  America, 
Beaumarchais  found  the  Congress  at  last  giving  him  some 
sign  of  its  existence.  This  missive  promised  much :  we  shall 
show  presently  what  it  produced ;  but  we  must  first  explain 
how  the  Congress  had  been  led  to  bestow  upon  the  author  of 
"  The  Barber  of  Seville"  the  applause  of  the  New  World  as 
an  installment  toward  the  payment  of  his  supplies. 


THB  AMERICAN   COMAHSSIONEES.  319 


CHAPTER  XX. 

The  American  Commissioners. — Bills  at  a  long  Date. — Prolonged  De- 
lays.— Beaumarchais'  first  Million. — Arbitration  proposed. — Beau- 
marchais  in  Distress. — Eepudiation  persisted  in,  —  Ultimate  Com- 
promise. 

The  treaty  of  alliance  between  France  and  the  United 
States  had  been  signed  the  6th  February,  1778,  at  Versailles; 
and,  a  short  time  after,  Silas  Deane,  who  was  the  first  of  the 
three  American  commissioners  to  arrive  at  Paris,  and  who  had 
treated  with  Beaumarchais  in  the  name  of  the  Congress,  was 
recalled  to  Philadelphia  to  render  an  account  of  his  conduct, 
and  to  defend  the  engagements  he  had  made  from  the  imputa- 
tions of  his  colleague,  Arthur  Lee.  It  is  known  that  the  lat- 
ter had  accused  him  of  having,  by  a  fraudulent  agi-eement 
with  Beaumarchais,  and  contrary  to  the  intentions  of  the 
French  government,  transformed  a  gratuitous  gift  into  a  com- 
mercial operation.  As  this  assertion,  of  which  we  have  al- 
ready shown  the  falsity,  offered  the  advantage  to  America  of 
dispensing  with  aU  gratitude  and  all  payment  to  Beaumar- 
chais, Congress  was  naturally  somewhat  disposed  to  adopt  it 
Silas  Deane,  who,  on  arriving  in  the  United  States,  found  an 
unfavorable  impression  against  him,  had  to  sustain  a  violent 
dispute  with  two  brothers  of  Arthur  Lee,  who  exercised  con- 
siderable influence  with  Congress.  Debates  arose  of  a  some- 
what unedifying  character,  not  only  about  the  engagements 
contracted  with  Beaumarchais,  but  about  the  employment  of 
the  funds  supplied  directly  to  the  American  agents  by  the 
court  of  France.  Meanwhile  Silas  Deane  possessed  the  most 
honorable  testimonials  from  the  French  government ;  the  king, 
Louis  XVL,  had  given  him  his  portrait ;  M.  de  Vergennes  had 
written  the  most  flattering  letters  in  his  favor,  and  the  late 
chief  clerk  of  M.  de  Vergennes,  M.  Gerard,  who  arrived  at  the 
same  time  in  Philadelphia  as  minister  plenipotentiary  from 
the  court  of  France,  testified  the  greatest  esteem  for  him.  M. 
Gerard  had  been  instructed  to  interfere,  but  with  great  pru- 


320  BEAUMABCHAIS   AND   HIS   TIMES. 

dence,  in  any  disputes ;  but,  seeing  that  this  one  was  increas- 
ing to  such  an  extent  as  to  become  a  contest  between  the 
French  influence  and  the  English  party,  represented  in  the 
heart  of  the  Congress  by  the  brothers  Lee,  he  energetically 
undertook  the  offensive  against  the  latter.  "The  stories  of 
Mr.  Arthur  Lee,"  he  wrote  to  M.  de  Vergennes,  "  are  but  an 
absurd  tissue  of  falsehoods  and  sarcasms,  which  can  only  com- 
promise those  who  have  the  misfortune  of  being  obliged  to 
have  any  correspondence  with  him.  Permit  me,  Monseigneur, 
to  congratulate  myself  at  least  on  having  relieved  you  of  this 
burden."*  In  another  dispatch  M.  Gerard  wrote  to  the  min- 
ister, "  I  explained  myself  gradually,  and  not  until  the  very 
instant  when  it  was  indispensable,  to  prevent  this  dangerous 
and  bad  man  (Arthur  Lee)  from  replacing  Franklin,!  and  be- 
ing, at  the  same  time,  charged  with  the  negotiations  with 
Spain.  I  can  not  conceal  fi'om  joxt,  Monseignenr,  that  I  re- 
joice every  day  more  and  more  at  having  been  able  to  assist 
in  preventing  this  misfortune." 

As  to  the  accusations  directed  against  Silas  Deane,  M.  Ge'- 
rard  attributed  them  to  the  "spirit  of  ostracism,  which,"  said 
he,  "has  already  begun  to  exercise  its  influence  against  men 
who  have  rendered  important  services,  when  they  have  ceased 
to  be  necessary."  Notwithstanding  the  support  ctf  M.  Gerard, 
Silas  Deane  obtained  indeed  but  half  a  victory.  He  was 
cleared  from  every  accusation,  and  they  allowed  him  for  his 
personal  expenses  £500  a  year  for  the  time  his  mission  in 
FBance  had  lasted  ;  but  no  mention  was  made  of  his  services. 
They  decided  that  he  should  return  to  Europe  to  arrange  all 
his  affairs,  but  without  any  official  title.  "It  is  an  ostra- 
cism," M.  Gerard  wrote  again  to  M.  de  Vergennes,  "  it  is  an 
ostracism  of  the  most  cruel  and  deliberate  character.  They 
do  not  think  of  answering  the  letters  you  have  written  in  his 
favor." 

*  After  this  quarrel,  it  was  indeed  decided  that  Arthur  Lee,  in  his 
turn,  should  be  recalled. 

t  Arthur  Lee  exerted  all  his  strength  to  have  Franklin  also  recalled, 
that  he  might  remain  the  sole  representative  of  the  United  States  at 
the  court  of  France,  but  the  French  government,  which  mistrusted  him, 
opposed  this,  and  requested  that  Franklin  might  remain,  and  he  alone 
was  retained. 


THE   AMERICAN   COiDnSSION'ERS.  321 

On  his  side,  Silas  Deane  wrote  to  Beaumarchais :  "  I  have 
been  treated  in  a  manner  which  neither  you,  my  friends,  nor 
even  my  enemies  expected.  However,  I  do  not  doubt  that 
America  will  end  by  becoming  more  just  toward  you  and  to- 
ward me."*  The  Congress,  indeed,  began  not  to  have  so 
much  confidence  in  the  reports  of  Arthur  Lee.  It  moreover 
was  divided  between  its  desire  not  to  pay  for  the  old  supplies 
and  its  wish  to  receive  fresh  ones.  Accordingly,  Beaumar- 
chais' agent,  Francy,  declared  that  his  patron  would  not  send 
any  thing  more  unless  they  acknowledged  his  previous  claims, 
and  guaranteed  him,  by  a  formal  contract,  from  all  difiiculty 
for  the  future.  The  contract  which  was  to  satisfy  this  last 
condition  had  been  signed  the  6th  April,  1778,  by  the  mem- 
bers of  the  committee  of  commerce  and  Francy,  acting  in  the 
name  of  Beaumarchais.  Only  the  Congress,  always  distrust- 
ful, ordered  that  the  contract  should  be  sent  to  Paris,  and 
should  not  be  ratified  until  after  the  American  deputation  had 
obtained  from  the  Minister  of  Foreign  Afiairs  a  categorical 
answer  to  the  question  whether  Beaumarchais  was  really  the 
creditor  of  the  Congress  for  cargoes  to  the  amount  of  five 
millions  already  sent,  or  whether  these  cargoes  were,  as  Ar- 
thur Lee  had  not  ceased  to  affirm,  a  gratuitous  gift  on  the  part 
of  the  French  government.  A  note  to  this  effect  was  present- 
ed to  M.  de  Yergennes  the  10th  September,  1778,  by  the  three 
commissioners,  Franklin,  Arthur  Lee,  who  was  not  yet  re- 
called, and  John  Adams,  who  had  been  lately  sent  to  Paris 
to  replace  Silas  Deane.  Here  is  the  answer  of  the  minister ; 
it  is  addressed  to  M.  Gerard,  the  representative  of  France  in 
the  United  States,  who  was  commissioned  to  transmit  it  to 
the  Congress. 

"  The  Commissioners  of  the  Congress  have  just  addressed  to  me 
an  official  letter,  which  refers  to  two  objects  :  the  first  relates  to  the 
correctness  of  the  account  of  M.  de  Beaumarchais,  under  the  name 
of  the  firm  '  Roderigue  Hortalez  &  Company ;'  the  second  to  the 
ratification  of  the  contract,  which  the  Congress,  or  rather  the  Com- 

*  See  Appendix  for  a  letter  addressed  to  Beaumarchais  by  M.  Car- 
michael,  who  was  aftenvard  minister  of  the  United  States  at  the  court 
of  Spain.  This  letter  proves  the  friendship  of  Carmichael  for  Beau- 
marchais, and  his  conTiction  of  the  in^rratitade  of  Congress  toward  him. 

O  2 


322  BEACMABCHAIS   AND   HIS   TIMES. 

mittee  of  Commerce  in  its  name,  has  signed  with  Monsieur  Theve- 
neau  de  Francy,  agent  of  Monsieur  Caron  de  Beaumarchais.  M. 
Franklin  and  his  colleagues  desire  to  know  the  articles  that  have 
been  supplied  to  them  by  the  king,  and  those  that  M.  de  Beaumar- 
chais has  supplied  them  with  on  his  own  account ;  and  they  insinu- 
ate that  the  Congress  is  convinced  that  all,  or  at  least  the  greater 
part  of  what  has  been  sent,  is  on  account  of  his  majesty.  I  have  re- 
plied to  them  that  the  king  did  not  furnish  them  with  any  thing  ;  that 
he  simply  allowed  M.  de  Beaumarchais  to  supply  himself  from  his 
arsenals,  under  an  engagement  to  replace  what  he  took;  and,  more- 
over, that  I  would  with  pleasure  interest  myself  to  prevent  their  be- 
ing too  much  pressed  for  the  repayment  of  the  military  articles." 

As  to  what  related  to  the  fresh  contract  signed  between 
Beaumarchais  and  the  Congress,  the  minister  added  that  he 
had  no  advice  to  give  as  to  the  ratification  of  this  agreement, 
not  being  called  on  to  answer  for  the  engagements  of  the 
house  of  Eoderigue  Hortalez  &  Co.  In  this  answer  of  M.  de 
Vergennes',  which  was  very  explicit  concerning  the  rights  of 
Beaumarchais  as  creditor  of  the  Congress,  there  were  two 
points :  there  was  a  suppression  dictated  by  policy,  and  which 
consisted  in  passing  over  in  silence  the  pecuniary  aid  granted 
to  Beaumarchais  before  the  rupture  between  France  and  En- 
gland ;  and,  at  the  same  time,  the  truth  which  was  allowed 
to  appear  in  the  minister's  last  sentence  in  reference  to  the 
military  articles  supplied.  This  sentence  proves  that,  if  Beau- 
marchais had  received  pecuniary  aid,  he  had  not  had  it  to  en- 
able him  to  send  gratuitously,  but  to  send  on  credit,  leaving 
to  the  debtors  rather  a  considerable  latitude,  especially  as  to 
the  munitions  of  war.  Besides,  it  is  evident  that  Beaumar- 
chais conformed  to  ministerial  instructions ;  for  during  two 
years,  excepting  two  cargoes  of  150,000  francs  each,  of  which 
he  had  been  obliged  to  take  possession  by  authority,  he  had 
not  been  able  to  obtain  a  liard  for  five  millions  of  military 
and  other  stores,  and  when  he  applied  for  payment  on  account, 
the  Americans  rephed  to  him  by  denying  the  debt,  or  did  not 
reply  at  all. 

In  presence  of  the  formal  declaration  of  the  minister,  repro- 
duced and  corroborated  in  a  note  addressed  to  the  Congress 
by  M.  Gerard,  in  which  it  was  said  that  "  the  French  govern- 
ment has  nothing  to  do  with  the  commercial  operations  of 


BILLS   AT   A   LONG   DATE.  323 

Beaamarchais,"  it  was  necessary  that  Congress  should  at  last 
make  up  its  mind  to  acknowledge  the  author  of  "  The  Barber 
of  Seville"  as  a  genuine  creditor.  It  was  not  until  then  that 
they  sent  him  the  flattering  address  we  have  quoted  in  the 
preceding  chapter.  On  reading  these  words,  "  The  Congress 
grieves  for  the  misfortunes  you  have  suflfered  in  support  of  its 
States ;  it  will  take  the  promptest  measures  for  acquitting  it- 
self of  the  debt  it  has  contracted  with  you,"  Beaumarchais 
thought  himself,  at  last,  on  the  eve  of  receiving  either  money 
or  tobacco:  this  was  another  illusion.  Instead  of  giving  him 
an  installment,  at  least  in  kind,  the  Congress,  alleging  the  bad 
state  of  its  finances  and  the  dangers  of  navigation  as  pretexts, 
preferred  sending  him,  in  October,  1779,  on  his  general  ac- 
count, 2,544,000  Uvres  in  bills  of  exchange  at  three  years' 
date,  drawn  on  Franklin.  It  is  certain  that  Congress  used 
freely  the  privilege  M.  de  Vergennes  had  conferred  on  it,  of 
taking  its  time  with  Bearmarchais,  when,  upon  a  debt  of  five 
millions  of  three  years'  date,  it  sent  an  installment  in  bills  of 
exchange  payable  in  three  years  more — bills  which  were  sign- 
ed by  a  nation  hardly  acknowledged  as  such,  and  which  con- 
sequently could  scarcely  pass  for  ready  money. 

Notwithstanding  the  pompous  thanks  of  the  Congress,  its 
conduct  exhibited  an  afterthought;  it  persisted  in  reality  in 
not  believing  seriously  in  Beaumarchais'  debt,  and  it  did  not 
despair  of  finding  some  means  of  getting  rid  of  it.  "We  are 
quite  astonished,  two  years  later,  to  find  the  minister  of  finance, 
Robert  Morris,  speaking  to  Franklin  of  a  plan  for  not  paying 
these  biUs,  and  Franklin  proving  to  him  that  his  scheme  is 
impracticable,  because  the  bills  are  at  the  time  in  circulation. 
We  are  not  less  astonished  when  we  find  Franklin — ^in  answer 
to  a  question  addressed  to  him  by  the  head  of  the  financial  de- 
partment of  foreign  aflfairs,  ]VL  Durival,  in  reference  to  a  set- 
tlement for  the  many  millions  which  his  country  had  received 
from  France,  and  of  which  we  will  speak  hereafter — return 
to  a  question  which  appeared  decided,  and  three  years  after 
the  declaration  by  M.  de  Vergennes,  two  years  after  the  letter 
from  the  Congress  and  the  issue  of  the  bills  of  exchange,  ask 
the  minister  again,  the  loth  of  May,  1781,  if  the  things  claim- 
ed by  Beaumarchais  were  not  gifts  from  the  King  of  France. 


32i  BEATJMAKCHAIS  AND   HIS  TUIES. 

M.  Durival  answered  him  very  laconically  on  this  subject : 
"  As  to  the  articles  furnished  and  advanced  by  M.  de  Beau- 
marchais,  the  minister  has  no  knowledge  of  them." 

In  the  mean  while,  Beaumarchais,  discontented  at  being  so 
badly  paid  by  the  general  Congress,  had  endeavored  to  treat 
with  the  separate  States  of  America,  He  was  not  more  for- 
tunate. Two  cargoes  sold  by  him — one  to  the  State  of  Vir- 
ginia, the  other  to  the  State  of  South  Carohna — had  been  paid 
for  in  paper  money,  and  this  paper,  before  he  could  get  rid  of 
it,  had  suffered  an  enormous  depreciation.  All  this  was  not 
encouraging  ;  accordingly,  in  the  year  1780,  he  on  his  part  re- 
fused to  ratify  the  treaty  concluded  in  his  name  -with  the  Con- 
gress by  Francy.  Making  as  much  as  possible  out  of  the  bills 
of  exchange  at  three  years'  date,  he  speculated  no  more  with 
the  constituted  bodies,  and  confined  himself  to  waiting  till  the 
Congress  came  to  a  final  settlement  about  his  general  account. 

In  1781,  Silas  Deane  returned  to  France  to  examine  all 
the  accounts  he  had  left  unsettled ;  that  of  Beaumarchais  was 
fixed  by  him,  April  6,  at  a  sum  of  3,600,000  livres,  after  the 
deduction  of  the  payments  made  on  account,  and  including  the 
interest  from  the  reception  of  the  first  supplies. 

Armed  with  this  claim,  Beaumarchais  demanded  payment 
from  the  Congress.  No  answer  came  during  two  years.  In 
1783,  a  new  agent  from  the  United  States,  Mr.  Barclay,  ar- 
rived in  Paris,  with  the  title  of  consul-general,  and  a  mission 
to  revise  the  accounts  audited  by  Silas  Deane.  Beaumai^hais 
refused  to  submit  his  account,  which  had  been  already  verified, 
to  a  fresh  examination.  Mr.  Barclay  declared  to  him  that  the 
Congress  would  neither  hear  nor  pay  any  tiling  unless  his  ac- 
count was  again  gone  over  and  investigated.  After  resisting 
for  a  year,  Beaumarchais  yielded.  The  account  was  revised 
and  reduced  in  amount  by  ]Mr.  Barclay,  but  the  American 
government  persisted  in  not  paying  any  thing;  and  soon  an 
incident,  which  occurred  without  the  knowledge  of  Beaumar- 
chais, determined  the  Congress  to  adjourn  his  debt  indefinitely. 
This  incident  was  as  follows. 

The  United  States  having  already  received  a  great  deal  of 
money  from  the  French  government,  and  requesting,  in  1783, 
a  new  loan  of  six  millions,  it  was  agreed  that,  on  receiving 


BEAOIARCHAIS'   FIRST   MILLION.  325 

these  six  millions,  they  should  determine  their  financial  position 
with  France  by  an  exact  recapitulation  in  the  contract  of  all 
the  sums  they  had  already  received,  whether  as  loans  or  gifts. 
In  the  first  class,  under  the  head  of  sums  lent  successively, 
eighteen  millions  were  put  down  to  begin  with  ;  then  came  a 
loan  of  ten  millions  from  Holland,  guaranteed  by  the  King  of 
France,  and  of  which  he  paid  the  interest ;  finally,  the  six 
mUUons  of  the  last  loan.  All  this  made  a  sum  of  thirty-four 
millions,  which  the  United  States  engaged  to  repay  at  different 
times,  and  which,  by  the  way,  was  not  paid  very  exactly  at 
the  proper  periods.  At  length  the  generosity  of  the  king 
caused  the  insertion  in  the  contract  of  a  second  category  of 
sums,  which  he  declared  he  made  a  present  of  to  the  United 
States.  This  list  consisted,  first,  of  three  millions  granted,  the 
contract  said,  previously  to  the  treaty  of  alliance  of  February, 
1778  ;  secondly,  of  six  millions  given  in  1781.  Here,  then, 
were  nine  millions  which  the  King  of  France,  independently 
of  sums  lent  and  of  enormous  sums  spent  in  the  American 
war,  declared  he  gave  up  gratuitously.  Now,  by  a  rather 
strange  oversight,  Franklin,  who  had  signed  this  contract  the 
2oth  February,  1783,  did  not  perceive  till  three  years  later,  in 
1786,  when  he  had  already  returned  to  America,  that  there 
was  an  explanation  to  be  asked  for  respecting  the  three  mill- 
ions indicated  as  having  been  given  previously  to  1778.  He 
had  received  from  the  government  but  two  millions,  but  he  had 
received  in  1777  a  million  more  from  the  fermiers-gcneratix, 
for  which  million  the  United  States  had  paid  an  installment  in 
tobacco  to  the  value  of  153,229  livres.  "  It  is  possible,"  wrote 
Franklin  to  the  banker  of  the  United  States  at  Paris,  "  that 
this  million,  furnished  ostensibly  by  the  fermiers-generaux,  may 
have  been,  in  reality,  a  gift  from  the  crown  ;  but  in  this  case, 
as  Mr.  Thompson  observes,  the  fermiers-generaux  owe  us  the 
two  cargoes  of  tobacco  which  they  received  on  account  of  that 
sum."  There  is  some  naivete  in  Franklin  omitting  to  add 
that,  if  the  million  in  question  was  not  the  one  given  by  the 
fermiers-generaux,  the  United  States  must  have  owed  them 
for  nine  years  the  difference  between  the  million  received  in 
1777  and  the  153,229  livres  paid  in  tobacco.  It  must  be  said 
that  the  United  States,  a  young  and  poor  nation,  were  suifi- 


326  BEAUMAECHAIS  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

ciently  accustomed  to  receive  from  all  hands,  and  more  dis- 
posed to  accept  than  to  return.*  The  banker  of  the  United 
States,  M.  Grand,  was  commissioned  then  to  ascertain  from  M. 
de  Vergennes  if,  among  the  three  millions  which  the  king  said 
he  had  granted  gratuitously  to  the  United  States,  was  included 
the  million  from  the  fermiers-generaux.  M.  Durival  answered, 
in  the  name  of  M.  de  Vergennes,  that  the  king  had  nothing  to 
do  with  the  advance  made  by  the  fermiers-generaux,  but  that 
the  sum  in  question  was  a  million  delivered  from  the  royal 
treasury,  June  10,  1776.  It  was  precisely  the  milUon  given 
secretly  to  Beaumarchais.  Now  what  had  been  the  idea  of 
the  government  in  inserting  in  the  contract  of  February  25, 
1783,  any  mention  of  this  million,  after  the  eight  millions 
given  directly  to  the  American  agents  ?  Was  it  a  simple  re- 
capitulation of  the  money  disbursed  gratuitously  in  the  serv- 
ice of  the  United  States — a  recapitulation  made  in  order  to  fa- 
cilitate the  regulation  of  the  accounts  of  the  treasury,  without 
any  thought  being  given  to  the  inconvenient  effects  it  might 
have  upon  Beaumarchais  ?  If  this  last  supposition  were  the 
true  one,  it  must  be  acknowledged  that  Beaumarchais,  in  claim- 
ing full  payment  for  all  his  cargoes,  and  accounting  for  the 
money  afterward,  would  have  acted  contrarily  to  the  views  of 
the  government  which  had  supplied  him  with  funds ;  but  what 
took  place  after  M.  Durival' s  answer  gives  us  a  right  to  afiirm 
more  than  ever  that  the  government,  in  making  the  advance, 
did  not  mean  that  Beaumarchais  should  be  accountable  for  the 
million  to  the  United  States. 

Indeed,  after  reading  the  letter  from  M.  Durival,  which 
stated  that  this  million  was  given  June  10, 1776,  without  any 
farther  detail,  the  banker  of  the  United  States,  M.  Grand,  wrote 
to  obtain  the  receipt,  and  the  name  of  the  person  who  had  re- 
ceived the  million.  The  chief  of  the  ofl&ce  of  funds  consulted 
M.  de  Vergennes,  and  replied  at  first  by  a  refusal.     The  bank- 

*  Our  charge  d'affaires  at  Philadelphia,  M.  de  Marbois,  writes  to 
M,  de  Vergennes,  August  24,  1784 :  "  I  have  reason  to  think  that  the 
avarice  of  M.  M.  (the  Minister  of  Finance  of  the  United  States)  may 
render  him  capable  of  very  reprehensible  irregularities,  and  that  he  will 
never  take  much  trouble  about  fulfilling  the  obligations  of  the  United 
States." 


BEAUMAKCHAIS'  FIEST  MHJJON.  327 

er  insisted  afresh,  alleging  his  own  responsibility.  M.  Durival 
then  addressed  to  the  minister  a  secret  report  as  to  the  ques- 
tion whether  it  was  desirable  to  supply  M.  Grand  with  the 
copy  he  asked  for  of  M.  de  Beaumarchais'  receipt.  After  hav- 
ing stated  that,  according  to  the  receipt,  M.  de  Beaumarchais 
was  to  render  an  account  to  M.  de  Vergennes  only,  the  chief 
of  the  bureau  of  funds  concluded  thus :  "  There  might  be  an 
objection  to  furnishing  a  weapon  against  M.  de  Beaumarchais 
by  showing  to  M.  Grand  the  copy  he  asks  for,  of  the  acknowl- 
edgment for  the  million  delivered  June  10,  1776."  In  the 
margin  of  the  report  there  is  written :  "  Referred,  September 
5,  1786  ;"  and  below,  in  the  margin  also,  is  found  the  decision 
of  M.  de  Vergennes  thus  expressed :  "  There  can  be  no  rea- 
son for  giving  the  acknowledgment  mentioned  in  this  report." 
Conformably  to  this  decision  of  the  minister's,  the  chief  of  the 
bureau  of  funds  replied  to  the  banker  of  the  United  States  by 
the  following  letter : 

"Versailles,  September  16,  1786. 

"  The  minister  persists,  sir,  in  his  opinion  that  the  receipt  which 
you  ask  for  has  nothing  in  common  with  the  affairs  with  which  you 
are  charged,  and  that  it  would  be  useless  in  the  new  point  of  view  in 
which  you  look  at  it.  It  is  very  easy  for  you,  sir,  to  prove  that  the 
sum  in  question  has  not  been  paid  into  your  hands,  since  you  did  not 
begin  to  be  intrusted  with  the  affairs  of  the  Congress  until  January, 
1777,  while  the  receipt  in  question  is  dated  June  10,  1776. 

"  I  have  the  honor  to  be,  &c.,  Durival." 

By  this  refusal  of  the  minister  the  Congress  believed  itself 
sufficiently  authorized  to  conclude,  first,  that  it  was  Beau- 
marchais who  had  received  this  million ;  secondly,  that  this 
million  ought  to  be  restored  by  him  to  the  Congress  ;  thirdly, 
that  the  Congress  ought  not  to  pay  any  thing  until  this  mys- 
tery was  cleared  up.  AU  these  conclusions  were  not  equally 
just,  for  there  was  no  question  here,  as  in  the  declaration  of 
the  minister  in  1778,  of  a  concealment  dictated  by  policy; 
the  French  government  no  longer  concealed  the  fact,  in  1786, 
that  it  had  assisted  the  insurgent  colonies  before  their  rupture 
with  England,  for  it  declared  formally  that  it  had  given  three 
millions  with  that  view  before  the  treaty  of  1778,  and  went 
even  so  far  as  to  fix  the  date  of  the  first  million  delivered  June 
10,  1776.     If  it  refused  to  unveil  to  the  United  States  the 


328  BEATJMAKCHAIS   AKD   HIS   TIMES. 

name  of  the  man  to  whom  it  had  advanced  this  million,  it 
was  no  longer  from  considerations  of  political  prudence,  but 
from  a  motive  of  personal  equity  toward  Beaumarchais  "  not 
to  furnish  the  Americans  with  a  weapon  against  him,"  as  M. 
Durival  plainly  stated  in  his  report  to  the  minister.  By  this 
refusal  to  communicate  to  the  United  States  Beaumarchais' 
receipt,  the  minister  said  to  them  explicitly,  "  I  have  classed 
this  first  million  in  the  contract  of  February  25,  1783,  among 
the  millions  given  gratuitously  by  me  for  your  service,  because 
it  was,  in  fact,  given  by  me ;  but  as  it  has  not  been  given  to 
you,  as  the  man  to  whom  I  gave  it  has  bound  himself  by  his 
receipt  to  render  an  account  of  its  employment  to  me  and  not 
to  you,  this  man  can  be  accountable  to  me  alone.  If  I  asked 
you  for  the  repayment  of  this  million,  you  would,  on  your 
part,  have  the  right  to  claim  it  from  the  person  who  received 
it ;  but  as  I  ask  you  for  nothing,  it  is  for  me  only  to  decide 
how  far  this  gratuitous  advance  of  a  million  made  by  me  on 
your  behalf  is  to  be  serviceable  to  you,  or  to  the  man  to 
whom  I  made  it,  in  order  to  forward  a  secret  operation  which 
has  been  very  serviceable  to  you,  but  which  hitherto,  from 
your  refusal  to  pay,  and  from  the  various  losses  he  has  suffer- 
ed in  his  trade  with  you,  appears  to  have  been  more  injurious 
than  profitable  to  him." 

Tliis  suppression  in  favor  of  Beaumarchais  was  the  more 
justifiable  from  the  fact  that  the  incident  took  place  com- 
pletely without  his  knowledge ;  that  he  had  not  been  called 
on  to  substantiate  his  rights  or  interests,  either  upon  mention 
being  made  in  the  contract  of  February  25,  1783,  of  the  mill- 
ion received  by  him — a  secret  contract  which  he  did  not  know 
of — ^nor  upon  the  question  of  the  receipt  which  was  applied 
for  by  the  banker  of  the  United  States  in  1786,  and  refused 
by  the  minister.* 

*  To  the  preceding  it  must  farther  be  added  that,  whatever  motive 
may  have  determined  M.  de  Vergennes  to  speak,  in  the  contract  of 
February  25,  1783,  of  the  first  million  given  secretly  to  Beaumarchais, 
the  minister  had  certainly  no  intention  of  making  him  responsible  to- 
ward the  United  States  for  what  he  had  received  in  order  to  assist  them ; 
for  in  the  contract  of  February  25,  M.  de  Vergennes  does  not  say  a 
word  either  of  the  second  million  given  by  Spain,  or  of  the  third  mill- 
ion given  by  installments  to  Beaumarchais  in  1777. 


ARBITRATION   PROPOSED.  329 

While  these  explanations  were  being  exchanged  between  M. 
de  Vergennes  and  the  banker  of  the  United  States,  Beaumar- 
chais  urged  in  vain  upon  the  Congress  the  liquidation  of  his 
account,  which  had  been  deferred  nine  years,  asking  at  least 
for  an  arbitration,  proposing  as  one  of  his  arbitrators  M.  de 
Vergennes  himself,  and  accepting  on  the  part  of  the  Amer- 
icans any  arbitrators  they  chose  to  appoint,  with  the  exception 
of  his  personal  enemy,  Arthur  Lee. 

In  1787,  his  patience  being  exhausted,  he  wrote  to  the 
President  of  the  Congress,  under  date  of  June  12,  an  unpub- 
lished letter,  from  which  I  extract  the  following  passage : 

"  What  do  you  expect,  sir,  is  to  be  thought  here  of  the  vicious  cir- 
cle in  which,  it  appears,  I  am  to  be  inclosed?  We  will  not  make 
any  payment  to  M.  de  Beaumarchais  before  we  have  arranged  his 
accounts,  and  we  will  not  arrange  his  accounts  that  we  may  not  have 
any  payment  to  make  him !  A  people  who  have  become  powerful 
and  independent  may  well,  it  will  be  said,  look  upon  gratitude  as  the 
virtue  of  an  individual,  and  quite  beneath  its  policy ;  but  nothing  can 
liberate  a  state  from  being  just,  and,  above  all,  from  paying  its  debts. 
I  dare  hope,  sir,  that,  touched  by  the  importance  of  the  affair,  and  by 
the  force  of  my  reasons,  you  will  do  me  the  favor  of  honoring  me 
with  an  official  answer  as  to  the  course  which  the  honorable  Congress 
will  determine  upon — whether  to  verify  my  account  quickly,  and  pay 
on  that  verification  like  any  just  sovereign,  or  at  length  to  appoint 
arbitrators  in  Europe  to  decide  the  points  in  debate  as  to  assurance 
and  commission,  as  Mr.  Barclay  had  the  honor  to  propose  to  you 
himself  in  1785 ;  or,  finally,  to  write  to  me,  without  equivocation, 
that  the  sovereigns  of  America,  forgetting  my  past  sers'ices,  refuse 
me  all  justice.  Then  I  will  adopt  the  course  most  suitable  to  my 
despised  interest,  to  my  wounded  honor,  without  failing  in  the  pro- 
found respect  with  which  I  am,  both  of  the  general  Congress  and  of 
yourself.  Monsieur  le  President,  the  very  humble,  &c., 

"  Caron  de  Beaumarchais." 

The  Congress  thought  this  letter  rather  bold,  and,  to  teach 
their  creditor  to  behave  himself,  they  confided  the  examin- 
ation of  his  debt  to  the  sole  man  whom  Beaumarchais  had 
excluded  from  it — to  Arthur  Lee.  The  account  was  soon 
arranged.  Arthur  Lee  pretended  to  discover  that  the  con- 
tractor, to  whom  the  Congress  had,  in  1779,  sent  such 
fine  protestations  of  gratitude,  and  whose  debt  had  been  set- 
tled in  1781  at  3,600,000  livres,  had  not  only  nothing  to 


330  BEAtJMAKCHAIS   AND   HIS   TIMES. 

claim  from  the  United  States,  but,  on  the  contrary,  owed  the 
United  States  1,800,000  francs.  After  four  years  of  protesta- 
tions on  the  part  of  Beaumarchais,  Congress,  in  1793,  intrust- 
ed a  fresh  examination  of  this  debt  to  one  of  the  most  distin- 
guished statesmen  of  America,  Mr.  Alexander  Hamilton,  who, 
remodeling  the  fabulous  account  of  Arthur  Lee,  made  Beau- 
marchais pass  from  the  position  of  a  debtor  to  the  amount  of 
1,800,000  francs  to  that  of  a  legitimate  creditor  of  the  Con- 
gress for  the  sum  of  two  millions  two  hundred  and  eighty  thou- 
sand francs.  There  were,  it  will  be  seen,  but  four  millions 
difference  between  the  calculations  of  Arthur  Lee  and  those 
of  Mr.  Hamilton ;  but  at  the  same  time  Hamilton  proposed 
that  payment  should  be  deferred  until  fresh  endeavors  had 
been  made  with  the  French  government  to  obtain  a  commu- 
nication respecting  the  mysterious  receipt  of  one  million  re- 
ceived seven  years  previously,  considering  that  if  this  receipt 
was  signed  by  Beaumarchais,  there  was  a  reason  for  deduct- 
ing one  million  from  his  claim.  Conformably  to  the  instruc- 
tions of  the  Congress,  the  minister  of  the  United  States  to  the 
French  Republic,  Gouvemeur  Morris,  in  a  letter  under  date  of 
June  24,  1794,  applied  for  this  receipt  to  Buchot,  then  minis- 
ter for  foreign  affairs.  Buchot,  without  regard  to  the  official 
declarations  and  to  the  refusals  of  his  predecessors,  wishing, 
he  said,  to  give  the  United  States  the  satisfaction  which  had 
been  refused  them  by  the  ministers  of  the  old  regime,  gave  up 
to  a  foreign  government  a  claim  against  an  individual  who, 
according  to  the  terms  of  this  claim,  was  only  accountable  to- 
ward the  French  government. 

From  this  moment  Beaumarchais'  debt  underwent  a  new 
series  of  difficulties.  The  Congress  said  to  him :  "  In  a  con- 
tract signed  between  us  and  the  French  government,  February 
25,  1783,  this  government  declares  that  it  has  given  us,  gra- 
tuitously, nine  millions.  We  have  received  but  eight;  it  is 
you  who  have  received  the  ninth !  Prove  to  us  that  this 
million,  received  by  you  June  10,  1776,  is  not  that  which  was 
destined  for  us,  otherwise  we  will  deduct  it  from  your  debt." 

Beaumarchais  replied  to  the  Congress :  "I  demand  that  due 
notice  be  taken  of  the  most  explicit  declaration  which  I  now 
make,  that  I  have  never  received  from  King  Louis  XVI.,  from 


BEAUMABCHAT3   KCINED.  331 

his  ministers,  or  from  any  person  in  the  world,  either  a  million^ 
or  a  single  shilling,  to  be  presented  as  a  gift;  and  that  all  the 
money  I  employed  in  your  serrice  as  a  zealous  friend,  as  an 
honorable  merchant,  and  simply  in  fair  trading,  was  collected 
by  me,  either  in  France  or  in  other  states  of  Europe,  in  the 
way  of  loan  or  for  investment ;  that  all  my  creditors,  less  pa- 
tient toward  me  than  I  have  been  toward  you,  have  not  let 
twenty  years  pass  without  requiring  their  account  and  its  dis- 
charge, and  if  there  are  still  some  to  pay — a  question  which  is  for- 
eign to  you  in  your  position  as  debtors — it  would  be  but  an  obli- 
gation the  more  to  put  me  in  a  state  to  do  so  by  paying  me 
yourselves.  As  to  the  contract  of  1783,  the  existence  of  which 
you  inform  me  of,  and  of  which  I  had  always  been  in  igno- 
rance, I  declare  that  this  contract,  in  which  I  was  not  invited 
to  take  part,  either  by  you  or  the  ministers  of  France,  is  abso- 
lutely foreign  to  me,  under  whatever  point  of  view  it  be  ex- 
amined, for  the  simple  reason  that  I  took  no  part  in  it,  which 
was  indispensable,  if  after  ten  years  you  were  to  endeavor  to 
make  it  a  reason  for  eluding  or  putting  off  my  payment,  after 
having  exhausted  all  others."* 

Such  was  the  interminable  dispute  in  which  Beaumarchais 
consumed  the  latter  years  of  his  life.  At  this  period  of  the 
suit  his  fate  was  a  veiy  gloomy  one.  He  was  proscribed,  had 
taken  refuge  in  Hamburg,  and  believed  himself  ruined  in 
France ;  he  saw  for  his  only  daughter  no  other  resource  for 
the  future  than  this  American  debt,  and  clung  to  it  with  all 
the  energy  of  despair.  From  his  garret  at  Hamburg  he  ad- 
dressed volumes  to  the  Congress,  to  the  ministers  of  the  United 
States,  and  even  to  t/ie  ichole  American  nation.  One  of  these 
unpublished  Memoirs,  written  with  a  heavy  and  fatigued  hand, 
struck  me  from  its  peroration,  in  which,  through  the  heavi- 
ness of  old  age,  we  still  see  something  of  the  verve,  rather  un- 
equal, but  highly  colored,  of  the  Beaumarchab  of  a  former 
day. 

"  Americans,"  says  the  old  man, "  I  have  served  you  with  unwea- 
ried zeal ;  I  have  received  during  my  life  nothing  but  bitterness  for 
my  recompense,  and  I  die  your  creditor.     Suffer  me,  then,  in  dying, 

*  Extracted  from  an  unpublished  Memorial  of  Beaumarchais  of  the 
10th  of  April,  1795, 


332  BEAUMAECHAIS   AND   HIS   TIMES. 

to  bequeath  to  you  my  daughter  to  endow  with  a  portion  of  what  you 
owe  me.  Perhaps,  after  me,  through  the  injustice  of  other  persons, 
from  which  I  shall  no  longer  be  able  to  defend  myself,  there  will  re- 
main nothing  in  the  world  for  her ;  and  perhaps  Providence  has  wish- 
ed to  procure  for  her,  through  your  delay  in  paying  me,  a  resource 
after  my  death  against  complete  misfortune.  Adopt  her  as  a  worthy 
child  of  the  state !  Her  mother,  equally  unhappy,  and  my  widow, 
her  mother  will  conduct  her  to  you.  Let  her  be  looked  upon  among 
you  as  the  daughter  of  a  citizen.  But  if,  after  this  last  effort,  after 
all  I  have  just  said,  contrary  to  all  that  seems  possible,  I  could  fear 
you  would  again  reject  my  petition — if  I  could  fear  that  to  me  or  to 
my  heirs  you  would  refuse  arbitrators,  desperate,  ruined  as  I  am,  as 
much  through  Europe  as  through  you,  and  as  your  country  is  the 
only  one  where  I  can,  without  shame,  extend  my  hand  to  the  inhab- 
itants, what  remains  for  me  to  do  except  to  supplicate  Heaven  to  re- 
store me  for  a  short  time  to  health,  so  as  to  permit  me  to  travel  to 
America  1  Arrived  in  the  midst  of  you,  with  mind  and  body  weak- 
ened, unable  to  maintain  my  rights,  would  it  be  necessary  then  that, 
with  my  proofs  in  my  hand,  I  should  be  carried  on  a  stool  to  the  en- 
trance of  your  national  assemblies,  and  that,  holding  out  to  all  the  cap 
of  liberty,  with  which  no  man  has  helped  more  than  myself  to  deco- 
rate your  heads,  that  I  should  exclaim  to  you,  '  Americans,  bestow 
alms  on  your  friend,  whose  accumulated  services  have  received  but 
this  reward  1     Date  oholum  Belisario  V 

"  PlERRE-AuGUSTIN  CaRON  BeAUMARCHAIS. 
"  Near  Hamburg,  April  10,  1795." 

The  Congress  remained  deaf  to  the  claims  of  its  contract- 
or ;  not  only  did  they  allow  him  to  die  without  liquidating 
his  debt,  but  during  the  thirty-six  years  which  succeeded  his 
death,  from  1799  to  1835,  every  successive  government  in 
France,  and  every  embassador  from  these  governments  to  the 
United  States  supported  the  claims  of  the  heirs  of  Beaumar- 
chais  in  vain.  There  was  a  settled  opposition  to  this  claim, 
which  was  religiously  transmitted  from  one  generation  of 
legislators  to  another.  Not  only  did  they  say,  "  We  have  to 
deduct  from  the  debt,  which  was  fixed  in  1793,  by  Mr.  Hamil- 
ton, at  the  sum  of  2,280,000  livres,  the  sum  of  one  million 
given  for  us  to  Beaumarchais,  June  10th,  1776,"  but  they 
added,  "  As  the  interest  of  this  million,  of  which  we  have 
had  no  account  since  1770,  absorbs  the  surplus,  we  are  quits 
with  the  heirs  of  Beaumarchais,  and  will  not  pay  them  any 
thing."     On  their  side,  the  heirs  of  Beaumarchais  replied  to 


TALLEYRAND    ON    BEAUMAECHAIS'    CLAIM.  333 

the  Congress, "  According  to  Beaumarchais'  account,  you  owed, 
in  1793,  interest  included,  not  2,280,000  livres,  as  Mr.  Ham- 
ilton put  it  down,  but  more  than  four  millions.  Pay  us  at 
least  the  sum  fixed  by  your  own  reporter."  As  to  the  million 
which  the  United  States  claimed  to  deduct,  the  French  gov- 
ernment, resting  upon  the  official  declarations  made  to  the 
Congress  in  1778  by  M.  de  Vergennes,  interposed  strongly  in 
support  of  the  heirs  of  Beaumarchais,  and  the  first  dispatch 
addressed  by  the  minister  Talleyrand  on  this  question,  Germ- 
inal 28,  Year  xi.,  to  our  embassador  in  the  United  States,  will 
render  it  unnecessary  for  us  to  reproduce  all  the  other  dis- 
patches which  were  written  successively  by  other  ministers  to 
the  same  effect. 

"  They  bring  forward,"  wrote  Talleyrand  to  the  heirs  of  M.  de 
Beaumarchais,  "  a  receipt  given  by  the  latter,  the  10th  June,  1776, 
for  one  million  remitted  to  him,  by  order  of  M.  de  Vergennes,  and 
wish  to  reckon  this  sum  in  the  supplies  furnished  by  him  to  the 
United  States.  As  the  payment  and  destination  of  this  miUion  re- 
lated to  a  measure  of  secret  policy,  ordered  by  the  king,  and  forth- 
with executed,  it  appears  neither  just  nor  equitable  to  confound  it  with 
the  mercantile  operations,  posterior  in  date,  of  a  private  individual 
with  the  Congress.  Consequently,  no  conclusion  against  M.  de  Beau- 
marchais, as  a  personal  creditor  of  the  United  States,  can  be  drawn 
from  the  document  communicated  by  the  ex-commissioner  for  for- 
eign affairs,  Buchot,  to  the  American  minister. 

"  I  invite  you,  citizen  minister,  to  support  by  your  influence  the 
claims  of  the  Beaumarchais  family,  and  to  dwell  upon  the  considera- 
tions of  national  good  faith  and  honor  to  which  they  appeal.  A 
French  citizen,  who  risked  for  the  sake  of  the  Americans  his  whole 
fortune,  and  whose  zeal  and  activity  were  essentially  useful  during 
the  war  which  obtained  for  them  their  liberty  and  their  rank  among 
nations,  might  without  doubt  aspire  to  some  favor  :  at  lea*t  he  ought 
always  to  be  heard  when  he  asks  only  for  honesty  and  justice, 

"Receive,  &c.,  Talleyrand." 

In  1816,  the  government  of  the  United  States  asked  the 
Duke  de  Richelieu,  who  was  then  minister  of  foreign  affairs, 
through  M.  Gallatin,  if  the  French  government  would  con- 
sent to  declare  formally  that  the  million  furnished  June  10, 
1776,  to  Beaumarchais,  had  nothing  in  common  with  Vie  sup- 
plies furnished  by  the  said  Beaumarchais  to  the  United  States. 
The  Duke  de  Bichelieu,  depending  on  the  official  note  ad- 


334  BEAUMAECHAIS    AND   HIS   TIMES. 

dressed  to  the  Congress  by  M.  Gerard,  did  not  hesitate  to 
make  the  declaration  asked  for.  This  was  only  correct  in  an 
official  sense ;  but  it  seems  to  us  that  this  should  have  been 
sufficient  to  terminate  the  dispute ;  for,  indeed,  admitting  even 
that  Beaumarchais  had  di'avvn  all  his  money  from  the  coffers 
of  the  state,  there  was  certainly  something  strange  and  un- 
dignified in  the  attitude  of  a  nation  which  had  become  power- 
ful, and  which,  after  receiving  from  an  individual  at  a  period 
of  extreme  distress  most  signal  services,  persisted  in  saying  to 
this  individual  or  his  heirs,  "  Who  gave  you  the  money  with 
which  you  assisted  me  so  opportunely,  and  which  you  have 
claimed  from  me  in  vain  so  many  years  ?  I  believe  you  re- 
ceived this  money  to  make  me  a  present  of  it.  Your  govern- 
ment has  addressed  to  me  on  this  subject,  between  1778  and 
1783,  two  declarations,  one  of  which  affirms  positively  that 
I  ought  to  pay  you  for  all  your  supplies,  while  the  other  leads 
me  to  think  that  it  was  intended  to  make  me  a  present  of  one 
million  out  of  the  same  supplies.  Since  this  period,  your  gov- 
ernment has  declared,  without  intermission,  that  it  has  noth- 
ing to  do  with  your  commercial  operations,  and  that  I  ought 
to  pay  you  the  whole ;  but,  as  I  suspect  there  is  some  cabinet 
mystery  beneath  this,  I  prefer  to  suppose  that  the  assistance 
you  supplied  to  me  was  to  be  considered  gratuitous,  and  that 
I  ought  not  to  pay  for  it  either  to  your  government,  which 
does  not  claim  payment,  or  to  you,  who  claim  it  with  their 
sanction." 

Such  was  evidently  the  situation  in  which  the  government 
of  the  United  States  was  placed  by  the  formal  declaration  of 
the  Duke  of  Richelieu  in  1816.  The  government  did  not  the 
less  per^st  in  disavowing  the  debt,  and  notwithstanding  the 
favorable  opinion  of  several  eminent  lawyers  in  America,  not- 
withstanding the  presence  of  the  daughter  of  Beaumarchais, 
who  in  1824  went,  accompanied  by  one  of  her  sons,  to  solicit 
the  Congress  in  person,  at  each  renewal  of  the  debate  there 
was  found  an  inflexible  majority  to  refuse  the  claim.  It  was 
not  until  1835,  when  the  famous  affair  of  the  twenty-five  mill- 
ions was  brought  forward  for  the  second  time,  and  when  the 
rather  violent  proceedings  of  President  Jackson  had  taught  us 
that  the  American  government  was  a  less  patient  creditor 


KEFUDIAHON.  335 

than  ourselves,  that  the  idea  arose  of  entering  the  claim  of  the 
heirs  of  Beaumarchais  in  the  list  of  compensations  claimed  in 
the  name  of  France ;  but  the  claim  was  singularly  reduced. 
For  thirty-six  years  the  family  of  the  author  of  "  The  Barber 
of  Seville"  claimed  at  least  the  2,280,000  francs  which  were 
allowed  in  the  report  of  Mr.  Hamilton  in  1793  ;  they  had  the 
choice  given  them  in  1835  belween  eight  hundred  thousand 
francs  or  nothing;  they  preferred  800,000  francs,  and  this 
long  and  diificult  suit  between  Beaumarchais  and  the  United 
States  was  at  length  terminated,  as  so  many  suits  are  termin- 
ated, by  a  very  unsatisfactory  reckoning. 

I  have  been  anxious  to  relate  the  circumstances  with  entire 
impartiality.  I  think  I  have  proved  that  the  accusation  made 
against  Beaumarchais  in  America,  of  having  deceived  the 
French  government  by  making  it  believe  that  he  was  sending 
supplies  gratuitously  to  the  Congress,  while  he  demanded  pay- 
ment for  them,  is  completely  false.* 

Admitting  that  the  thing  was  possible,  though  it  did  not 
occur,  it  is  evident  from  the  letters  of  M.  de  Vergennes,  from 
those  of  Beaumarchais,  and  from  the  explanations  obtained  at 
various  times  from  the  minister  on  the  part  of  the  Congress, 
that  from  the  commencement  to  the  end  of  the  transaction, 
M.  de  Vergennes  was  constantly  acquainted  with  the  claims 
of  Beaumarchais,  and  that  if  he  had  disapproved  of  them,  noth- 
ing would  have  been  easier  for  him  than  to  oppose  them, 
even  without  sacrificing  that  secrecy  which  the  transaction  re- 
quired before  the  rupture  with  England,  and  still  more  so 
after  that  rupture.  I  have  been  obliged  nevertheless,  contrary 
to  the  very  sincere  opinion  of  the  heirs  of  Beaumarchais,  and 

*  TWs  accusation  is,  above  all,  developed  in  a  work  entitled  "  A  Po- 
litical and  Civil  History  of  the  United  States  of  America,  from  1763  to 
1797,"  by  Timothy  Pitkin.  I  have  been  unable  to  procure  Mr.  Pitkin's 
work  in  France,  but  I  have  read  a  very  complete  resume  of  that  part  of 
the  work  which  is  devoted  to  Beaumarchais  in  a  French  journal  pub- 
lished in  the  United  States ;  I  have  in  my  possession  all  the  documents 
submitted  to  the  Congress  at  different  periods  on  the  subject  of  this 
affair;  I  have  also  consulted  the  "Memoirs  of  Arthur  Lee,"  Beaumar- 
chais' most  inveterate  adversary,  who  was  the  first  to  spread  the  theory 
adopted  by  M.  Pitkin ;  I  was  accordingly  well  acquainted  with  the  the- 
ory I  had  to  refute. 


836  BEACMABCHAIS   AND  HIS   TIMES. 

to  the  declarations  of  the  different  ministers  since  1778,  all 
based  upon  the  first  official  declaration  of  M.  de  Vergennes — 
I  have  been  obliged  to  re-establish  the  truth  as  to  the  fact  of 
the  celebrated  million,  which  was  incontestably  given  by  the 
government,  not  for  a  seci'et  political  semce,  unconnected  ivith  the 
American  supplies,  but  for  the  supplies  themselves.  Finding 
also  in  the  archives  of  Foreign  Affairs  the  material  proof  that 
Beaumarchais,  independently  of  the  first  million,  given  June 

10,  1776,  received  a  second  from  the  court  of  Spain,  August 

11,  1776,  and  a  third  paid  by  installments  in  the  course  of 
1777,  I  have  been  obliged  to  mention  all  these  facts  because 
they  are  true,  and  because  the  first  duty  of  a  writer  who  re- 
spects himself  is  not  to  conceal  the  truth. 

Now,  from  these  facts,  can  any  induction  unfavorable  to 
Beaumarchais  be  draAvn  ?  I  do  not  think  so.  How  can  we 
admit,  without  clashing  with  all  semblance  of  truth,  that  M. 
de  Vergennes  did  not  ask  for  any  account  of  the  employment 
of  these  three  millions  from  an  agent  who  bound  himself  form- 
ally to  give  him  an  account  of  the  use  he  made  of  it  in  each 
of  his  receipts  ?  The  affair  being  one  of  those  called  cabinet 
secrets,  it  can  be  easily  understood  that  the  documents  calcu- 
lated to  determine  its  character  are  rare.  But  it  appears  to 
us  to  result  manifestly  from  the  position  taken  by  M.  de  Ver- 
gennes in  the  disputes  between  the  Congress  and  Beaumar- 
chais, that  the  latter  must  have  presented  to  the  minister 
an  account  of  his  profits  and  losses.  It  was  not  difficult  for 
him  to  prove  that  beyond  his  claim  of  four  millions  upon  the 
Congress,  of  which  he  vainly  endeavored  to  procure  payment, 
he  had  not  only  lost  several  vessels  captured  by  the  English 
cruisers,  but  that  he  had  also  suffered  considerable  losses  in 
his  transactions  with  the  separate  states  of  the  Union ;  in  the 
State  of  Virginia  alone,  upon  the  depreciation  of  paper  money, 
he  had  experienced  a  loss  which  he  estimated  at  three  millions. 
■  "I  am  much  grieved,"  wrote  Jefferson,  then  Governor  of  Vir- 
ginia, in  a  letter  of  the  date  of  the  15th  September,  1799 — 
"I  am  much  grieved  that  the  unfortunate  depreciation  of 
paper  money  should  have  enveloped  in  the  general  loss  M.  de 
Beaumarchais,  who  has  deserved  so  weU  of  us."  It  was  easy 
then  for  Beaumarchais  to  prove  to  M.  de  \'ergennes  that  the 


BEAUMARCHAIS'   GAIKS    AS    A    MERCHANT.  337 

gubvention  received  from  France  and  Spain  was  much  exceeded 
by  his  losses,  and  he  must  have  done  so,  since  M.  de  Vergennes 
permitted  him  to  claim  as  a  legitimate  debt  the  sum  which  he 
demanded  from  the  Congress:  he  must  have  done  so,  as  we 
shall  see  at  a  later  period;  for,  after  having  advanced  him 
these  three  millions,  the  king  and  M.  de  Vergennes,  to  indem- 
nify him  for  the  loss  of  his  flotilla  after  the  battle  of  Grenada, 
granted  him  again,  between  1784  and  1786,  a  private  indem- 
nification of  two  millions.  Now  is  it  not  as  clear  as  the  day 
that  the  same  king  and  the  same  minister  would  not  have 
granted  an  indemnity  oitwo  millions  to  a  man  who  had  not  yet 
given  an  account  of  the  use  he  had  made  of  the  three  millions 
which  had  been  secretly  confided  to  him  ten  years  previously, 
for  an  affair  which  had  already  been  completely  terminated 
eight  years,  above  all,  when  this  man  had  just  had  "  The  Mar- 
riage of  Figaro"  produced. 

To  sum  up  and  conclude  with  this  mysterious  affair,  which 
in  fifty  years  caused  more  than  fifty  dispatches  to  pass  between 
France  and  America,  not  one  of  which  is  correct,  Beaumar- 
chais,  without  mentioning  his  claims  against  the  private  states 
of  the  Union,  claimed  in  1795,  from  the  Congress,  a  sum  of 
4,141,171  livres,  including  the  interest  of  the  account  gone 
over  in  1781  by  Silas  Deane:  after  forty  yeari  discussion,  his 
heirs  have  received  eight  hundred  thousand  francs.  He  lost, 
then,  a  greater  sum  than  the  secret  subsidy  of  three  millions 
which  he  received.  This  result  was  less  absolutely  injurious 
in  itself  than  if  the  subvention  had  not  been  given,  but  it  does 
not  any  the  more  do  honor  to  the  gratitude  and  generosity  of 
the  American  government. 

It  was  not,  then,  in  his  transactions  with  the  Congress  that 
Beaumarchais  enriched  himself;  they  were  the  sources  of  loss- 
es rather  than  benefits  to  him ;  but  when  the  subsidies  from 
France  and  Spain  had  enabled  him  to  open  a  commercial 
house  on  a  large  scale,  he  followed  this  new  career  with  all 
the  ardor  he  exhibited  in  his  lawsuits  and  comedies,  and  en- 
tered into  a  great  variety  of  speculations.  These  attempts 
were  in  general  less  profitable  than  they  might  have  been,  if 
Beaumarchais  had  not  retained  in  his  character  of  speculator 
all  the  qualities  and  defects  of  the  artist :  he  loved  difficult 

P 


338  BKA.UMAKCHAIS  AKD  HIS  TIMES. 

enterprises,  provided  they  were  either  brilliant  or  useful,  and 
he  embraced  too  many  things  at  the  same  time. 

I  have  before  me  a  general  catalogue  of  his  affairs  from  the 
1st  of  October,  1776,  until  the  30th  September,  1783,  that  is 
to  say,  during  the  seven  years  which  represent  more  particu- 
larly his  commercial  career.  This  catalogue  shows  that  money 
passed  through  his  hands  to  the  amount  of  21,044,191  livres 
in  disbursements,  and  of  21,092,515  in  receipts;  the  surplus, 
then,  of  the  receipts  over  the  disbursements  was  only  48,327 
livres.  It  is  true  the  expenditure  relates  to  several  enterprises 
which  at  a  later  period  would  bring  in  receipts  ;  but  the  slight 
surplus  of  receipts  over  expenditure,  during  a  period  of  seven 
years,  is  sufficient,  it  appears  to  me,  to  give  us  the  idea  of  a 
merchant  who  was  rather  adventurous  besides  being  most  act- 
ive and  amusing.  We  have  seen  Beaumarchais  hitherto  mix- 
ing together  commerce  and  politics ;  it  will  not,  perhaps,  be 
disagreeable  to  view  him  simply  as  a  merchant,  hurrying  from 
one  port  to  another,  purchasing  or  constructing  vessels,  curb- 
ing, as  he  said,  his  various  captains,  so  as  to  obtain  a  little  profit 
out  of  them,  and  discussing  naval  expeditions  with  all  the  dar- 
ing of  a  consummate  privateer. 

Among  the  five  hundred  letters  which  represent  him  under 
this  aspect,  I  will  quote  but  one.  He  is  at  Bordeaux  super- 
intending one  of  his  armaments,  and  is  writing  to  his  agent 
Francy,  who  had  returned  from  America,  and  was  stopping 
at  Paris. 

"Bordeaux,  October  19, 1T82. 
"  Now,  mon  Francy,  I  know  every  thing  respecting  my  arma- 
ment, but  I  should  not  have  known  any  thing  if  I  had  left  before  I 
had  seen  it.  '  La  Menagere'  will  be  thoroughly  well  commanded  : 
Foligne  (the  name  of  the  captain),  in  spite  of  some  whims,  is  an  ex- 
cellent man ;  his  staff  is  excellent,  and  his  crew  have  the  utmost 
good  will !  So  much  for  the  first.  '  L'aimable  Eugenie,'  instead  of 
being  600  tons  burden,  is  hardly  500.  Her  captain  is  an  intractable 
man,  self-willed  and  careless.  Without  telling  me  any  thing  about 
it,  they  have  put  32  cannons,  160  men,  and  all  the  necessary  accom- 
paniments on  board ;  so  that  on  its  return,  this  vessel,  whose  expenses 
are  9000  livres  a  month,  and  which  has  cost  me  at  least  300,000 
livres,  can  only  involve  a  loss.  They  have  only  taken  1000  barrels 
of  flour,  making  125  tons ;  105  thousand  of  poudre  au  roi,  making 
scarcely  50  tons ;  my  cargo,  which  does  not  come  to  so  much ;  and 


BEAUMARCHAIS'    FLEET.  339 

the  vessel  is  so  fully  laden  that  they  have  left  at  Nantes  the  iron 
bands  which  I  required  for '  La  Menagere,'  and  which  they  have  not 
found  sufficient  room  for. 

"  To  make  this  vessel  sail,  they  have  76,000  useless  bricks  in  her 
as  ballast  instead  of  taking  coals,  which  would  have  sold  well  at 
Saint  Domingo.  Besides  this,  they  have  thirty  tons  of  iron  in  bal- 
last, and  their  stowage  was  so  badly  made  that  they  had  to  shift 
twenty- five  tons  of  iron  to  prevent  tlie  vessel  being  thrown  on  her 
beam-ends  in  rough  weather ;  but  I  have  remedied  as  much  as  was 
in  my  power  all  these  evils  by  the  nature  of  the  instructions  I  have 
given  to  Levaigneur  and  Father  Poligne.     So  much  for  the  second. 

" '  L' Alexandre'  sails  like  a  basket  without  a  bottom,  that  is  the 
expression  of  Gregory  (another  captain),  but  she  keeps  a  more  even 
keel  than  the  '  Eugenie ;'  she  arrives  in  the  river  to-morrow  from 
Rochelle.  She  has  nothing  in  her  wood,  but  her  tackle,  sails,  and 
masts  are  all  destroyed.  She  fought  (could  you  believe  it  X)  in  the 
sight  of  four  French  frigates,  and  of  a  vessel  of  64  guns,  who  did 
not  make  the  least  movement  to  help  her.  When  the  captain  com- 
plained of  it  at  Rochefort,  they  told  him  he  ought  to  have  made  sig- 
nals. The  captain  replied,  very  justly,  that  the  noise  and  the  fire  of 
the  cannons  were  the  best  signals  he  could  have  made. 

"  He  is  going  to  stop  at  Souillac  without  going  up  to  Bordeaux, 
and  I  hope  he  will  set  off  with  the  other  two.  He  does  not  sail  well 
enough  to  be  sent  alone  any  where.  We  must  assist  him,  and  I 
reckon  upon  having  a  freight  from  the  king.  Gregory  himself  is 
rather  hot-headed ;  he  will  agree  badly  with  Baudin  (another  cap- 
tain), who  is  still  more  self-willed  and  despotic.  I  am  going  to  eurb 
them  all,  so  that  they  may  obey,  and  give  me  a  little  profit,  for  I  ex- 
pect but  little  from  them,  considering  the  price  of  commodities  from 
Europe  in  the  islands,  the  reduction  in  freightage,  and  the  low  price 
of  commodities  from  the  islands  in  Europe. 

"  Here,  then,  I  am  nailed,  until  they  leave,  in  a  place  where  I  ought 
not  to  stay  more  than  three  weeks.  Nothing  would  be  done,  I  see, 
and  every  thing  would  again  go  to  the  devil. 

"  How  is  your  delicate  health  ?  How  is  your  gentle  and  very 
amiable  sister-in-law  ?  Your  project  of  traveling  in  hot  climates  is 
only  one  of  those  ideas  which  invalids  have  and  which  reason  re- 
strains. Repose  and  diet  are  all  that  are  necessary  for  you.  Talk 
of  my  letter  to  my  wife,  so  that  she  may  be  acquainted  with  every 
thing.  I  have  all  my  staff  here,  and  more  than  I  want  to  occupy  all 
my  time.  I  do  not  know  whether  I  shall  be  able  to  \vrite  to  her  to- 
day. 

"  Tell  Cantini*  I  have  received  his  last  letter  with  its  contents. 

*  It  was  his  cashier,  of  whom  he  had  later  to  complain,  and  who  was 
replaced  by  the  eldest  brother  of  his  friend  Giidin. 


340  BEAUMAKCHAIS    AND    HIS   TIMES. 

I  beg  him  to  send  me  a  line  by  every  post,  whether  I  write  to  him 
or  not.  I  can  finish  every  thing  here  in  less  than  a  fortnight,  so  there 
is  now  nearly  an  end  to  my  journey.     Good-by,  mon  Francy." 

Young  Francy  liked  extravagance ;  he  had  made  money  by 
the  interest  Beaumarchais  had  given  him  in  his  speculations, 
and  although  he  was  living  in  the  house  of  his  pati-on,  he  kept 
three  horses  for  himself.  Beaumarchais  had  also  a  certain 
taste  for  show :  but  sometimes  the  accusations  of  Dr.  Dubourg 
returned  to  his  mind ;  be  feared  envious  detractors,  felt  him- 
self seized  by  starts  with  a  great  love  of  simplicity,  and  ad- 
dressed to  Francy,  in  the  midst  of  a  letter  on  business,  attacks 
ah  irato  in  the  style  of  the  following,  which  is  also  dated  from 
Bordeaux : 

"  Bordeaux,  October  26,  1782. 
"...  What  I  disapprove  of  is,  that  you  keep  three  horses  at  Paris ; 
in  your  position,  this  extravagance  is  an  absurdity,  and  more  than  use- 
less. You  make  every  body  exclaim  at  me,  exclaim  at  you,  indeed 
at  both  of  us.  And  at  a  {ime  when  I  wish  to  retrench  a  portion  of 
my  expenses,  I  have  the  vexation  of  hearing  it  said  that  I  am  sur- 
rounded by  the  greatest  extravagance.  Certainly  I  ought  not  to  ac- 
count any  more  than  you  for  my  conduct  to  any  one  ;  however,  there 
is  what  is  called  a  regard  for  position,  and  when  we  break  through 
it,  we  have  all  the  foolish  and  all  the  envious  relations,  enemies, 
great  persons  and  small,  against  us.  As  you  are  in  my  house,  I  am 
annoyed  that  they  can  tell  me  that  every  thing  connected  with  me  is 
in  unrestrained  extravagance.  What  the  devil  can  you  want  with 
all  this  train?  Come !  live  simply,  and  do  away  with  what  is  use- 
less. You  are  the  cause  of  my  not  knowing  any  longer  what  takes 
place  in  my  stables  ;  I  am  robbed  on  every  side,  and  this  arises  from 
the  state  of  disorder  by  which  they  profit.  Ten  horses,  with  three 
coachmen,  who  combine  to  plunder  me  !  I  beg  this  of  you  as  a  fa- 
vor ;  we  are  quite  out  of  our  places,  my  friend.*  I  am  going  to  order 
the  sale  of  two  mares  which  belong  to  me  ;  I  shall  have  enough,  even 
too  many,  with  five,  and  do  not  be  the  cause  of  my  inability  to  have 
order  in  my  household.  As  soon  as  there  is  irregularity  there  is 
theft.  What  I  ask  of  you  is  just  and  reasonable ;  I  wish  to  live 
henceforth  with  the  greatest  simplicity.  When  you  know  from  what 
high  personages  the  censures  which  cause  my  remarks  proceed,  you 
will  find  I  can  not  take  too  many  precautions  against  malignity  ;  you 
would  not  wish  to  do  me  harm,  and  all  this  does.  I  speak  to  you 
from  my  heart,  as  one  friend  to 'another." 

*  This  was,  in  Beaumarchais,  both  full  of  good  sense  and  delicacy. 


BEAUMAKCHAIS   ON   CONSUMPTION.  341 

In  spite  of  the  gentle  manner  in  which  they  were  put,  these 
observations  were  doubtless  displeasing  to  Francy,  who  was 
proud,  somewhat  capricious  in  his  capacity  of  patient,  and  who 
kept  three  horses  at  his  expense ;  for  in  the  letter  we  have 
just  quoted,  Beaumarchais,  who,  though  abroad  he  was  always 
at  war,  in  his  home  loved  peace  above  every  thing,  replied  to 
him  amicably,  "  No  one  understands  me  or  wishes  to  under- 
stand me.  Well,  do  as  you  like ;  let  us  say  no  more  about  it, 
and  attend  to  your  health  ;  that  is  the  principal  thing." 

Tha  health  of  the  young  man,  who  was  suffering  from  a 
disease  of  the  chest,  was  declining  from  day  to  day.  He  had 
gone  to  pass  some  time  at  Dunkirk  with  his  friends.  The  au- 
thor of  "  The  Barber,"  in  the  midst  of  all  his  labors,  found 
time  to  transform  himself,  for  "  his  Francy,"  into  a  physician, 
and  write  a  letter  tp  him  which  seems  to  me  full  of  kindness, 
from  the  delicate  artifices  that  Beaumarchais  employs  to  in- 
duce his  young  friend  to  follow  a  rigorous  treatment. 

"  Paris,  August  26,  1783. 

*'  My  poor  Francy, — You  are  silly  to  say  that  I  forget  you ;  but, 
as  you  are  also  sick,  I  pardon  you.  If  you  pay  as  much  attention  to 
your  health  as  I  do,  you  will  get  well  quickly  enough.  Only,  my 
friend,  you  must  have  no  pity  on  yourself,  and  must  do  rigorously 
what  I  am  going  to  prescribe  to  you.  I  have  had  two  very  import- 
ant conferences  with  M.  Seiffert,  your  physician.  He  did  not  ap- 
prove of  your  being  bled  in  the  foot,  although  he  did  not  wish  to  tell 
you  so.  He  feared  to  agitate  your  mind,  and  went  round  the  ques- 
tion ;  but  he  always  speaks  plainly  to  me,  and  this  is  what  I  have 
heard  from  him  as  the  result  of  his  theory,  and  of  the  successful  man- 
ner in  which  he  appUed  it  to  Madame  de  St.  Alban,  who  was  on  the 
point  of  death,  and  consequently  very  much  worse  than  you  are,  for 
she  had  fever,  had  lost  her  voice,  was  wasting  away,  was  spitting  her 
lungs  up,  and,  in  fine,  was  despaired  of  and  given  up  by  every  one. 
Hear  how  he  argues :  the  acridity  of  the  humor,  which  attacks  a 
part  either  accidentally  weakened  or  weak  by  nature,  at  last  forms 
an  ulcer,  to  which  all  the  acrimony  of  the  blood  rushes ;  but  then  the 
spitting,  and  all  the  accidents  which  proceed  from  the  part  being  in- 
jured, are  themselves  only  a  local  evil,  and  all  the  remedies  which 
may  be  applied  palliate  and  alleviate  this  local  evil  without  destroy- 
ing the  main  disease.  Whatever  efforts  may  be  made,  if,  through 
compassion  for  the  patient,  the  principle  of  the  disease  be  not  funda- 
mentally treated,  he  only  lasts  a  time  longer,  and  remains  incurable. 
I  only  know,  then  (says  M.  Seiffert),  one  sole  means,  which  consists 


342  BEAUMAECHAIS  AND   HIS  TIMES. 

in  turning  away  the  humor  from  the  course  it  has  taken  toward  a 
weak  part,  and  in  directing  it  externally  with  decision,  and  even 
with  violence  ;  consequently,  our  physician,  without  attending  to  all 
the  admirers,  relations,  flatterers,  &c.,  of  our  pretty  little  St.  Alban, 
clapped  two  blisters  on  to  her  two  arms.  They  did  not  produce 
enough,  according  to  him,  and  he  clapped  one  upon  her  shoulders, 
and  if  the  humor  had  not  come  in  abundance,  he  was  going  to  put 
one  on  her  chest.  Executioner !  was  cried  out  on  all  sides ;  but  he 
continued  his  plan.  Finally,  my  friend,  she  coughed  less,  spat  less, 
found  her  appetite  again,  and  when  they  were  preparing  to  bewail 
her  loss,  they  had  to  laugh  with  her  about  the  universal  plaster  which 
had  saved  her  life.  She  suffered — but  what  a  difference  in  her  fate ! 
For  the  last  six  weeks  she  has  been  much  better ;  she  has  recovered 
her  flesh,  her  color,  and  her  voice,  both  for  speaking  and  singing. 
This  is  what  I  have  before  my  eyes.  Seiffert,  then,  condemns  you, 
and  so  do  I,  to  return  and  be  blistered,  or  take  upon  yourself  to  do  it 
where  you  are  ;  but  be  sure  that,  after  mature  reflection,  we  are  all 
of  opinion  that  you  must  submit  to  it,  and  that  your  future  health  de- 
pends on  it.  All  the  rest  will  only  suit  the  ignorant.  '  I  should  have 
done  it  to  myself  immediately,'  said  Seiffert, '  if  my  pain  in  the  chest 
had  not  ceased.'  Cry  out,  if  that  solaces  you ;  or  come  back,  and 
we  promise  you  to  have  no  mercy  for  your  repugnance. 

"  I  can  not  thank  your  friends  and  mine  too  much  for  all  the  care 
they  take  of  you ;  but  if  you  are  all  in  want  of  sufficient  resolution  to 
adopt  our  terrible  regimen,  come  back  to  us,  for  there  is  no  time  to 
lose.  Let  us  suffer  for  a  few  days  in  order  to  save  the  entire  edi- 
fice, and  do  not  let  us  wait  till  the  danger  becomes  more  pressing. 

"  This  is  the  wish  and  ardent  desire  of  your  friend, 

"  Caron  de  Beaumarchais." 

Beaumarchais'  solicitude  could  not  save  young  Francy.  He 
died  a  short  time  after  receiving  this  letter,  and  his  will,  wliich 
I  have  before  me,  contains  a  clause  which,  taken  in  connection 
with  the  passage  already  quoted  from  Julie's  will,  is  an  addi- 
tional testimony  in  favor  of  the  man  of  whom  such  an  opinion 
was  expressed  by  his  friends  on  their  deathbeds.  After  dis- 
tributing among  his  family  the  somewhat  considerable  fortune 
which  he  had  gained  in  the  service  of  his  patron,  Francy  ter- 
minates with  these  lines  :  "I  appoint  as  executor  of  my  will 
M.  Caron  de  Beaumarchais,  my  friend ;  the  obligations  I  have 
toward  him  do  not  allow  me  to  mxike  him  any  legacy,  and  I  am 
convinced  that  he  will  willingly  render  me  this  last  service." 
It  seems  to  me  that  there  is  something  flattering  to  Beaumar- 


PATRIOTISM   OF   BEAUMAKCHAIS.  343 

chais  in  the  reason  assigned  for  not  making  him  any  legacy, 
and  for  expecting  this  last  service  from  him. 

To  complete  the  picture  of  Beaumarchais'  life  at  this  period, 
we  should  have  to  show  him,  after  the  disastrous  naval  battle 
in  which  the  Count  de  Grasse  lost,  in  1782,  the  most  magnifi- 
cent of  our  fleets,  burning  with  a  noble  zeal  in  the  midst  of 
the  general  consternation,  and  sending  men  into  aU  the  cafes 
of  Paris  to  cry  out  "  Subscriptions,  subscriptions,"  in  order  to 
obtain  the  means  of  replacing  the  vessels  lost ;  v/riting  to  aU 
the  chambers  of  commerce  in  the  kingdom,  forwarding  to  each 
of  them  a  hundred  louis,  and  pressing  them  to  adopt  his  idea. 
This  idea  soon  spread  like  a  train  of  powder :  each  to'mi,  each 
coiporation,  offered  a  vessel,  and  the  disaster  experienced  by 
our  navy  was  repaired  with  wonderful  rapidity.  Beaumar- 
chais himself  hurried  through  all  our  maritime  towns  in  order 
to  get  up  or  increase  the  ardor  of  this  patriotic  movement. 
M.  de  Vergennes  wrote  to  him  as  follows :  *'  As  minister  I 
have  no  right  to  approve,  but  as  citizen  I  do  approve  of  the 
energetic  feeling  which  you  are  communicating  to  your  com- 
patriots. Whatever  success  your  step  may  have,  it  -nnll  none 
the  less  do  honor  to  your  zeal,  and  it  is  with  much  satisfac- 
tion that  I  compliment  you  upon  it."  Admiral  D'Estaing, 
who  went  with  Beaumarchais  to  Bordeaux,  delighted  with  the 
co-operation  of  the  author  of  "  The  Bai'ber  of  Seville,"  wrote 
to  hira  as  follows,  in  his  style,  which  is  always  somewhat  droll : 
*'  When  Jupiter's  brain  of  fire  was  brought  to  bed  of  the  bel- 
ligerent Minerva,  he  certainly  required  a  midwife  like  your- 
self." And  Beaumarchais,  continuing  the  metaphor,  replied 
to  the  admiral :  "  Your  midwife,  as  you  call  me,  would  only 
have  made  Jupiter  produce  a  miscarriage  instead  of  a  IVIinerva, 
if,  while  disposing  of  every  thing  which  did  not  lead  to  the 
end,  she  had  not  paid  the  greatest  attention  to  every  thing 
which  contributed  toward  it."  On  the  other  side  of  these 
bursts  of  patriotism  we  should  have  to  show  Beaumarchais  de- 
voting himself  to  the  most  various  commercial  speculations — 
the  establishment  of  a  Bank  of  Discount,  the  germ  of  the  Bank 
of  France ;  a  joint  speculation  with  the  brothers  Perier  for  the 
foundation  of  the  fire-engine  at  Chaillot,  «S:c. ;  but  that  would 
take  us  too  far :  of  all  his  commercial  affairs  of  this  date,  one 


344  BEAUMAKCHAIS   AND   HIS   TIMES. 

alone,  from  its  literary  and  historical  importance,  and  the  vari- 
ous incidents  connected  with  it,  a}>peui-s  to  us  to  deserve  par- 
ticular attention.     At  that  one  we  will  pause. 


CHAPTEE  XXI. 


Voltaire's  Works. — The  Margrave  of  Baden. — Beaumarchais  and  Cath- 
arine of  Russia. — Opposition  to  Beaumarchais'  Speculation. 

It  required  a  man  with  all  the  enterprise  of  Beaumarchais 
to  undertake  to  print  and  publish,  in  1770,  the  "  Q^uvres  Com- 
pletes" of  Voltaire.  It  was  the  largest  publication  that  had 
then  been  attempted.  The  "  Encyclopedic"  was  in  thirty- 
three  volumes  only,  while  two  editions  of  the  "  G^uvres  Com- 
pletes" were  to  appear  almost  at  the  same  time ;  the  one  in 
seventy  volumes  octavo,  the  other,  a  cheaper  one,  in  ninety- 
two  volumes  duodecimo.  It  was  not  exactly  the  number  of 
volumes  which  would  have  rendered  this  vmdertaking  so  alarm- 
ing to  any  one  but  the  author  of  "  The  Barber."  There  was 
a  much  greater  difficulty  still.  Nearly  half  of  Voltaire's  works 
were  prohibited  in  France.  The  prohibited  Avorks,  neverthe- 
less, circulated  pretty  freely,  but  from  time  to  time  the  gov- 
ernment thought  itself  compelled  to  perform  an  act  of  severity ; 
editions  were  burned,  and  frequently  the  very  men  who  bought 
and  read  them  with  the  greatest  eagerness  sent  to  prison,  for 
the  sake  of  example,  the  shopkeepers  who  sold  them.  This 
clashing  between  what  the  law  forbids  and  what  society  not 
only  tolerates  but  seeks  after,  is  one  of  the  essential  features 
of  a  state  of  society  which  is  on  the  verge  of  ruin. 

It  was  impossible,  then,  to  print  a  complete  edition  of  Vol- 
taire's works  in  France ;  but  it  was  necessary  that,  when  print- 
ed, it  should  be  possible  for  them  to  circulate  them  with  some 
security.  A  severe  prohibition  would  have  proved  mortal  to 
so  vast  an  enterprise.  On  the  other  side,  considering  its  im- 
portance and  the  sensation  it  would  make,  how  could  it  be 
hoped  that  a  clamor  would  not  be  raised  against  it,  and  that 
even  supposing  government  were  inclined  to  favor  it,  they 
would  not  be  forced  to  stop  it  ?  It  was  a  risk  no  bookseller 
wished  to  run.     Panckoucke,  who  had  purchased  Voltaire's 


voltalbe's  works.  345 

unpublished  works  from  his  heirs,  and  who  had  at  first  thought 
of  bringing  out  the  complete  edition,  thought  the  enterprise 
too  dangerous,  and  offered  it  to  Beaumarchais.  If  I  am  to  be- 
lieve the  unpublished  Memoirs  of  Gudin,  the  Empress  Catha- 
rine of  Russia  had  made  a  proposal  to  Panckoucke  to  print  the 
collection  of  Voltaire's  works  at  St.  Petersburg.     Gudin  says : 

"  Beaumarchais,  jealous  of  the  honor  of  his  country,  no  sooner 
heard  of  the  steps  taken  by  Catharine's  agents  than  he  hurried  to 
Versailles  to  point  out  to  the  Count  de  Maurepas  the  disgrace  it 
would  be  to  France  to  allow  the  works  of  the  man  who  was  the 
greatest  ornament  to  her  literature  to  be  published  in  Russia.  The 
minister  was  much  struck  by  what  he  said,  but,  placed  between  the 
two  great  bodies,  the  clergy  and  Parliament,  he  feared  their  opposi- 
tion and  the  clamor  of  those  timid  minds  who,  too  much  like  the  birds 
of  night  (Gudin  is  still  speaking),  are  scared  by  the  light  of  day. 
After  reflecting  some  moments,  M.  de  Maurepas  said  to  Beaumar- 
chais, '  I  know  but  one  man  who  would  dare  to  run  the  risk  of  such 
an  undertaking.'  '  Who,  my  lord  V  '  You.'  '  Yes,  doubtless  I  would 
venture  it ;  but  after  I  have  embarked  my  fortune  in  it,  the  clergy 
wUl  appeal  to  Parliament,  the  edition  will  be  stopped,  the  editor  and 
the  printers  disgraced,  and  the  shame  of  France  rendered  complete 
and  more  evident  than  ever.'  M.  de  Maurepas  promised  that  the 
king's  patronage  should  be  given  to  a  publication  which  would  have 
the  assent  of  all  sensible  people,  and  which  concerned  the  glory  of 
his  reign." 

Beaumarchais  thought  himself  obliged  to  collect,  with  scru- 
pulous devotion,  all  that,  during  more  than  sixty  years,  had 
proceeded  from  the  inexhaustible  pen  of  Voltaire.  To  give 
more  importance  to  this  work,  which  was  then  quite  an  event, 
he  founded,  under  the  pompous  title  of  "  Literary,  Typograph- 
ical, and  Philosophical  Society,"  a  company  which  consisted 
of  himself  alone  ("  the  society,  ichich  is  myself"  he  says  in  a 
letter  to  one  of  his  intimate  friends) ;  and,  at  the  same  time, 
not  to  exasperate  the  jealousy  of  any  one,  he  modestly  called 
himself  the  general  correspondent  of  this  ideal  association.  He 
bought  xmpublished  manuscripts  to  the  amoimt  of  one  hund- 
red and  sixty  thousand  francs  at  Panckoucke's  book-shop, 
which  scarcely  contained  more  than  one  truly  interesting  paper 
— the  fragments  of  the  life  of  Voltaire,  written  by  himself. 
He  dispatched  an  agent  to  England  to  purchase,  for  a  sum  of 

P2 


346  BEAUMARCHAIS   AND    HIS   TIMES. 

about  150,000  livres,  the  best  printing  types  of  the  time,  those 
of  Baskerville ;  he  sent  another  to  Holland  to  study  the  manu- 
facture of  paper ;  he  bought  three  paper-mills  in  the  Vosges, 
and  at  last  occupied  himself  with  seeking  beyond  the  limits  of 
France,  upon  the  frontier,  for  some  neutral  ground  where  he 
could  found  with  security  a  vast  typographical  establishment. 

The  Iklargrave  of  Baden  possessed  at  Kehl  an  old  fort,  since 
demolished,  of  which  he  made  no  use.  Beaumarchais  asked 
his  permission  to  establish  himself  in  this  fort,  on  paying  for 
it,  let  it  be  understood,  and  to  collect  there  a  large  number  of 
workmen,  who  would  spend  in  his  margravate  all  the  money 
they  gained  by  printing  Voltaire,  The  proposition  was  se- 
ductive, but  it  presented  some  difficulties.  The  editor  of  Vol- 
taire, a  cautious  man,  required  that  the  prince  should  bind 
himself,  in  writing,  in  case  of  legal  proceedings,  to  allow  the 
company  to  come  upon  his  possessions  in  Alsace.  The  Mar- 
grave refused  to  do  so,  and  Beaumarchais  abandoned  his  de- 
mand. The  Margrave,  on  his  side,  exacted  a  slight  conces- 
sion from  Beaumarchais,  which  was  nothing  less  than  the 
right  to  suppress  every  thing  in  the  works  of  Voltaire  that  was 
very  offensive  to  religion  and  morality,  promising,  at  the  same 
time,  to  use  this  right  with  extreme  moderation.  Gudin  ma- 
liciously asserts  that  what  most  disturbed  the  Margrave  was 
the  fear  of  passing  for  an  accomplice  in  the  insolence  of  the 
author  of"  Candide"  toward  the  illustrious  family  of"  Thun- 
der-ten-Tronck"  in  particular,  and  the  petty  princes  of  Ger- 
many in  general.  However  this  might  be,  after  much  debat- 
ing, the  editor  of  Voltaire  sent  his  ultimatum  to  the  Margrave 
in  the  form  of  a  letter  declining  to  accede  to  his  proposal. 

The  Margrave  of  Baden,  seeing  that  it  was  absolutely  nec- 
essary to  choose  between  his  scruples  of  morality  and  the  ad- 
vantage of  letting  Kehl,  learning  besides  that  another  German 
prince  (of  Neuwied)  appeared  disposed  to  arrange  with  Beau- 
marchais, resigned  himself  to  a  capitulation  of  his  morality, 
and  allowed  Voltaire  to  be  printed  without  mutilation.  Truth 
obliges  me  to  add  a  fact  which  is  not  known,  namely,  that 
Beaumarchais,  resembling  in  this  respect  his  patron  Voltaire, 
while  yielding  nothing  to  the  moral  scruples  of  a  little  Ger- 
man prince,  was  not  wanting  in  complaisance  when  the  ques- 


r^BORS   OF  EDITING.  347 

tion  of  modesty  was  not  in  play.  Thus  the  same  man  who 
refused  to  give  up  for  the  Margrave  of  Baden  the  paraphrase 
of  the  "  Canticles,"  consented,  to  please  Catharine  II.,  to  can- 
cel portions  of  the  correspondence  of  the  empress  with  Vol- 
taire, and  to  incur  by  that  an  increase  of  expense  of  which  he 
vainly  sought  to  be  reimbursed  in  a  letter  to  the  Prince  of 
Nassau,  under  date  of  the  6th  October,  1790. 

"  1  had  begged  you,  mon  prince,  to  learn  from  her  majesty  whether 
she  had  given  any  orders  on  the  subject  of  the  just  satisfaction  guar- 
anteed to  me  in  her  name  when  I  promised  MM.  de  Moirtmorin  and 
Grimm  to  cancel  in  every  copy  of  every  edition  of  Voltaire  the  por- 
tions which  her  majesty  appeared  to  object  to.  I  had  given  you  a 
letter,  in  which  these  details  were  clearly  explained,  in  which  I  stated, 
as  a  certain  fact,  that  we  had  been  obUged  to  reprint  412,000  pages, 
in  order  to  put  all  the  editions  in  the  state  she  wished  ;  that  this  ex- 
pense, added  to  the  undoing  and  binding  of  this  immense  collection, 
had  not  amounted  to  less  than  15,000  livres.  For  above  two  years 
we  have  not  had  a  word  of  reply  on  the  subject." 

To  superintend  the  composition,  printing,  and  publication 
of  these  162  volumes  (for  the  two  editions),  to  introduce  them 
fraudulently,  though  with  the  connivance  of  the  authorities, 
but  vnih  the  risk  of  a  permanent  prohibition,  was  an  enter- 
prise which  was  singularly  laborious  for  a  man  already  over- 
whelmed by  so  many  other  occupations.  Beaumarchais  seem- 
ed sometimes  to  bend  under  the  weight  of  the  burden.  "  Here 
am  I,"  he  exclaimed,  "obliged  to  learn  my  letters  at  paper- 
making,  printing,  and  bookselling."  However,  he  learned  his 
new  trade  quickly  enough,  and  not  one  of  the  least  interesting 
parts  of  his  correspondence  is  that  in  which  he  discusses,  from 
Paris,  with  his  agent  at  Kehl,  aU  the  details  of  this  immense 
undertaking. 

It  required  three  years  for  Beaumarchais  to  organize  an  en- 
terprise started  upon  so  vast  a  plan.  Independently  of  the 
material  difficulties,  it  was  necessary  to  make  a  selection  from 
the  numerous  printed  and  manuscript  works  attributed  to  Vol- 
taire, many  of  which  were  not  his,  to  compare  and  arrange 
pieces  which  had  appeared  twice  over,  to  collect  the  corre- 
spondence of  the  author,  and  to  make  a  choice  from  among 
his  letters. 

It  was  not  till  1783  (although  the  prospectus  was  issued  in 


348  BEAUMAKCHAIS  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

1780)  that  the  first  volume  of  the  edition  of  Voltaire's  works 
appeared.  Beaumarchais  neglected  nothing  to  attract  sub- 
scribers ;  not  contented  -with  making  as  much  noise  as  possible 
in  the  foreign  papers,*  he  invented  a  plan  which  has  often 
been  imitated  since,  under  various  forms :  he  offered  prizes  in 
the  shape  of  medals  and  lottery  tickets.  A  sum  of  200,000 
francs  was  devoted  by  him  to  forming  400  prizes  in  money  in 
favor  of  the  first  4000  subscribers ;  and  although  that  number 
of  subscribers  was  never  attained,  the  promised  lottery  was 
drawn  exactly  at  the  periods  fixed.  The  two  editions  could 
not  be  finished  in  less  than  seven  years.  This  tardiness  is  ex- 
plained by  the  numerous  personal  misfortunes  which  Beau- 
marchais had  to  undergo  during  that  time,  and  by  several  ob- 
stacles inherent  to  the  publication  itself.  He  had  reckoned 
upon  the  protection  of  the  first  minister,  with  whom  he  was 
in  great  favor;  but  M.  de  Maurepas  died  in  November,  1781, 
and  the  editor  of  Voltaire  lost  in  him  a  support  against  the 
attacks  of  the  clergy  and  Parliament.  The  first  of  these  par- 
ties complained  several  times  to  the  king  of  the  toleration  the 
minister  showed  in  favor  of  the  works  of  an  adversary  to  the 
Church ;  the  second  did  not,  I  think,  extend  its  zeal  to  any 
formal  proceeding.  They,  however,  circulated  a  very  violent 
pamphlet,  entitled  "  Denunciation  to  the  Parliament  of  the 
Subscription  for  the  works  of  Voltaire,"  with  this  motto :  Ulu- 
late et  clamate.  Beaumarchais  replied  to  this  pamphlet  in  the 
foreign  journals  by  jesting  on  the  motto,  but  still  continued  his 
publication. 

The  persecution  was  not  very  lasting  or  very  severe,  to 
judge  of  it  by  the  following  letter,  which,  while  giving  us 
the  exact  date  of  the  last  volume  of  the  complete  works  of 
Voltaire,  proves  at  the  same  time  the  connivance  of  the  gov- 
ernment during  the  whole  transaction.  It  is  addressed  by 
Beaumarchais  to  the  Director-general  of  the  Post-ofiice,  M. 
d'Ogny. 

"Paris,  September  1,  1790. 

"  Monsieur, — I  can  now  only  offer  you  barren  thanks  for  the  good 
offices  you  rendered  me  in  the  most  difficult  times.     This  volume  of 

*  The  edition,  being  forbidden  by  law,  could  not  be  advertised  in  the 
French  journals. 


VOLTAIRE   AKD   THE   GOVEKNMENT.  349 

the '  Life  of  Voltaire,'  which  I  have  the  honor  to  address  to  you,  com- 
pletes the  work. 

"  But,  sir,  I  can  never  forget  that  without  your  kind  assistance  we 
should  have  remained  on  tlie  road,  and,  expiring  at  our  work,  should 
have  been  unable  to  give  to  impatient  Europe  the  collection  of  the 
works  of  the  great  man.  This  bold  enterprise  has  been  a  loss  to  me 
of  above  a  million,  in  capital  and  interest ;  but  thanks  to  you,  sir,  I 
have  kept  my  word,  and  that  is  a  consolation  to  me.  Some  necessary 
matters  which  have  been  delayed  stUl  occupy  our  presses.  Every 
thing  that  comes  from  them,  sir,  shall  be  addressed  to  you,  as  a  slight 
tribute  of  my  gratitude. 

"  I  salute,  honor,  and  love  you.  Beaumahchais." 

This  letter  and  several  others  proves  that,  of  all  Beaumar- 
chais'  speculations,  the  edition  of  Voltaire  was  the  most  unfor- 
tunate. Expecting  an  enthusiastic  success,  he  had  printed 
15,000  copies,  and  he  had  scarcely  2000  subscribers.  Whether 
the  previous  edition,  that  of  Geneva  by  Cramer,  in  spite  of  its 
incompleteness,  had  injured  his,  or  that  the  delay  in  producing 
the  work  had  cooled  the  public,  or  that  the  fanaticism  for  Vol- 
taire had  already  begun  to  decline,  or  that  the  state  of  agita- 
tion into  which  France  was  soon  afterward  thrown  rendered 
readers  less  disposed  to  purchase  so  expensive  a  work,  it  is 
certain  that  Beaumarchais  lost  the  enormous  sums  he  had 
risked,  and  that,  after  the  dissolution  of  his  establishment  at 
Kehl,  where  he  besides  printed  an  edition  of  Kousseau  and  a 
few  other  works,  all  the  benefits  he  derived  from  his  trade  of 
publisher  were  masses  of  printed  paper,  which  were  heaped  up 
in  his  house  in  the  Faubourg  St.  Antoine,  which  afterward 
caused  some  rather  unfriendly  visits  from  the  sovereign  people, 
who  were  persuaded  that  the  author  of  "  The  Barber  of  Se- 
ville" was  monopolizing  either  wheat  or  arms,  and  were  quite 
astonished  to  find  there  no  other  provisions  or  arms  than  those 
of  an  intellectual  description. 


350  BEAUMAKCHAIS   AND   HIS  TIMES. 


CHAFIER  XXn. 

Position  of  Beanmarchais  before  the  Representation  of  "  The  Marriage 
of  Figaro." — Opposition  to  the  Performance. — Beanmarchais  exer- 
cising the  Censorship. — Beanmarchais  and  the  Prince  of  Nassau. — 
A  P^adin  of  the  Middle  Ages  in  the  eighteenth  Century. 

We  have  now  arrived  at  the  highest  and  most  brilliant 
point  in  Beanmarchais'  career.  He  has  reached  the  apogee 
of  his  fortune,  his  celebrity,  and  his  influence  over  public  opin- 
ion. After  having  ascertained  by  his  own  experience  of  life 
the  inconveniences  of  an  order  of  things  in  which  intelligence 
reduced  to  self-dependence  can  only  assert  itself  by  indirect 
means,  he  is  about  to  compensate  himself,  to  some  extent,  for 
the  mortifications  without  number  he  has  undergone  in  con- 
quering a  position  which,  while  exposing  him  to  the  jealousy 
of  his  enemies,  does  not  preserve  him  from  their  disdain.  He 
is  about  to  attack  the  whole  of  society,  and  to  make  it  admit 
the  justness  of  his  ridicule.  He  will  be  seen  for  a  moment 
uniting  in  himself  all  the  impulses  of  destruction  or  reforma- 
tion which  are  agitating  his  country.  With  a  boldness  hith- 
erto unknown,  he  will  apply  the  dissolvent  of  irony  to  a  form 
of  society  which  is  falling  from  decay,  and  with  his  cap  and 
bells  will  open  the  road  to  more  redoubtable  destroyers. 

We  must,  however,  avoid  exaggerating,  as  is  often  done,  the 
revolutionary  intentions  of  the  author  of  "  The  Marriage  of  Fi- 
garo," and  consequently  the  aberration  of  a  power  which  tol- 
erated attacks  of  which  the  results  have  alone  shown  us  the 
tendency.  In  the  present  day  we  judge  Beaumarchais'  work 
from  the  events  which  followed  it,  and  we  are  too  much  in- 
clined to  exaggerate,  either  for  good  or  evil,  the  significance  of 
this  comedy.  In  undertaking  to  combine  in  a  single  theatri- 
cal piece  attacks  upon  various  abuses  and  various  social  states 
which  many  authors  before  himself,  from  Moliere  to  Le  Sage, 
had  attacked  separately,  and  in  conducting  this  attack  with 
the  audacious,  and  even  licentious  vivacity  which  character- 
ized his  talent,  Beaumarchais  was  far  from  imagining  that  he 


BEAUMAKCHAIS   NOT   A   REVOLCnONIST.  351 

was  helping  to  prepare  a  general  overthrow,  and  that  society 
had  reached  such  a  degree  of  weakness  that  a  comedy  which 
was  itself  not  very  healthy,  but  which,  like  all  comedies,  as- 
sumed the  power  of  curing,  would  become  an  additional  evil, 
and  would  contribute  to  carry  off  the  patient.  What  is  al- 
ready knowTi  of  Beaumarchais  proves  superabundantly,  inde- 
pendently of  what  will  be  read  farther  on,  that  he  was  not  a 
very  fierce  revolutionist,  and  that  the  four  or  five  first  articles 
by  which,  in  the  present  day,  every  constitution,  even  of  the 
feeblest  description,  invariably  opens,  would  have  sufficed  to 
satisfy  his  political  temperament.  Disposed  to  censure  vani- 
ties, privileges,  and  abuses  from  which  he  had  suffered  more 
than  once,  he  was  certainly  far  from  being  disposed  to  push 
things  to  extremities,  and  to  welcome  with  enthusiasm  a  so- 
cial convulsion  which  was  destined  soon  to  go  far  beyond  his 
ideas,  and  to  overturn  and  ruin  him  at  the  very  moment  when 
he  was  approaching  the  age  of  rest,  and  only  aspired  to  enjoy 
in  peace  the  opulence  which  he  had  acquired  so  laboriously. 
The  author  of  "  The  Marriage  of  Figaro"  wrote  his  comedy, 
then,  with  sentiments  of  a  much  less  subversive  description 
than  is  generally  supposed  by  those  persons  Avho  are  unaware 
that  he  possessed  at  this  epoch  a  fortune  of  several  millions ; 
he  wrote  with  his  eyes  closed  to  the  future,  thinking  only  of 
the  present  pleasure  of  enjoying  a  new  dramatic  success,  tak- 
ing his  revenge  for  the  humiliations  and  acts  of  injustice  from 
which  neither  his  wit  nor  his  riches  had  been  able  to  secure 
him,  of  continuing  wdth  greater  boldness  the  mission  of  Mo- 
liere,  of  making  the  small  laugh  at  the  expense  of  the  great, 
and  amusing  the  great  themselves,  while  interesting  their  self- 
love,  so  that  they  should  not  recognize  themselves  in  a  some- 
what exaggerated  picture  of  the  abuses  of  rank  and  fortune. 

Madame  Campan  has  preserved  for  us,  in  her  Memoirs,  the 
picture  of  a  scene  in  which  Louis  XVI.,  alone  with  Marie 
Antoinette,  has  "  The  Marriage  of  Figaro"  read  to  him.  Aft- 
er the  famous  monologue  in  the  fifth  act,  the  king  exclaimed, 
"  It  is  detestable ;  it  will  never  be  played.  It  would  be  nec- 
essary to  destroy  the  Bastille  to  prevent  the  representation  of 
this  piece  being  a  dangerous  anomaly..  This  man  laughs  at 
every  thing  which  ought  to  be  respected  in  a  government." 


352  BEAUMAKCHAIS  AKD  HIS  TIMES. 

"It  will  not  be  played,  then?"  said  the  queen,  whose  tone 
seemed  to  indicate  a  certain  inclination  for  the  piece.  "  No, 
certainly,"  said  the  king,  "you  may  be  sure  of  it." 

Louis  XVI.,  then,  was  decidedly  opposed  to  the  representa- 
tion beforehand  of  "  The  Marriage  of  Figai-o ;"  his  opposition 
was  shared  by  the  keeper  of  the  seals,  who  was  supported  in 
his  hostility  by  M.  Suard.  It  was  this  opposition,  very  for- 
midable from  the  rank  of  the  persons  composing  it,  if  not  from 
their  numbers,  which  by  means  of  numbers  had  to  be  over- 
come. Beaumarchais  manoeuvred  in  such  a  manner  that  a 
moment  arrived  when  it  may  be  said,  almost  without  exagger- 
ation, that  all  Paris,  except  the  king,  the  keeper  of  the  seals, 
and  M.  Suard,  desired  to  see  "  The  Marriage  of  Figaro"  play- 
ed, and  desired  this  with  an  ardor  of  impatient  curiosity, 
against  which  a  government  can  do  nothing,  when  this  fever, 
taking  possession  of  an  idle  and  frivolous  society,  becomes  its 
fixed  idea,  dominating  and  absorbing  every  other  preoccupa- 
tion. 

We  have  still  to  inquire  how  public  cmriosity  could  have 
been  overexcited  to  such  a  point  on  the  subject  of  a  comedy 
which  in  itself  is  not  absolutely  a  masterpiece ;  here  some- 
thing must  be  allowed  both  for  Beaumarchais'  skill  and  for 
his  altogether  exceptional  position.  If  he  had  only  been  a 
writer  of  genius,  struggling  against  the  will  of  a  king,  a  minis- 
ter, and  a  censor,  his  piece  would  never  have  seen  the  light,  or 
it  would  have  had  to  undergo  considerable  modifications ;  but 
he  then  held  a  position  quite  apart  in  the  history  of  celebrated 
writers,  which  allowed  him,  at  the  same  time,  to  make  use  of  a 
number  of  very  different  influences.  As  this  situation,  strange 
as  it  was,  furnishes  a  means  of  explaining  his  success  in  a 
struggle  apparently  so  disproportionate,  we  must  first  of  all 
endeavor  to  depict  and  characterize  it  by  means  of  numerous 
documents  which  we  have  before  us. 

A  popular  writer,  a  clever  financier,  Beaumarchais,  during 
the  period  of  four  or  five  years  which  preceded  "  The  Mar- 
riage of  Figaro,"  was,  moreover,  a  species  of  statesman  on  a 
small  scale,  consulted  secretly  by  the  ministers.  We  have  seen 
him,  under  the  influence  of  the  very  marked  favor  granted  to 
him  by  M.  de  Maurepas,  obtain,  to  a  certain  point,  the  confi- 


BEAUMAKCHAIS   CONSULTED   BY   THE   MDaSTEES.         353 

dence  of  M.  de  Vergennes,  and  act,  incognito,  a  somewhat  im- 
portant part  in  French  politics,  in  connection  with  the  United 
States ;  but  his  intervention  in  public  affairs  was  not  confined 
to  this  isolated  case;  we  find  in  his  papers  the  proof  that, 
whether  he  put  himself  forward,  or  whether  he  was  invited  to 
do  so,  he  interfered  often  enough  in  questions  of  administration 
or  finance.  "We  find  him,  for  example,  in  1 779,  at  the  request 
of  M.  de  IVlaurepas,  deliberating  with  M.  de  Vei-gennes  on  a 
plan  for  reorganizing  the  taxation,  and  having  frequent  inter- 
views with  this  minister,  who  writes  to  him  several  letters  on 
the  subject  of  the  plan  in  question,  of  which  I  shall  only  quote 
one. 

"  If  you  will  come  here,  sir,  to-morrow,  Thursday  evening,  at  six 
o'clock,  with  your  assistant,*  we  can  have  a  long  interview  in  contin- 
uation of  the  work  commenced  last  week.  I  tell  you  beforehand  that 
I  shall  have  an  adjunct  who  enjoys  the  entire  confidence  of  our  Men- 
tor;  f  I  wish  him  to  be  present  because,  in  a  matter  of  so  great  an 
importance,  it  is  impossible  to  have  the  views  of  too  many  persons, 

"  With  the  pleasiure  I  always  feel,  sir,  I  repeat  to  you  the  expres- 
sion of  my  sentiments^  &c. 

"  Wednesday,  March  17, 1779." 

Beauraarchais  writes  on  his  side,  in  sending  to  M.  de  Ver- 
gennes, a  Memorial  on  this  scheme :  "  Monsieur  le  Comte,  I 
have  the  honor  to  address  to  you  a  faithful  account  of  our  last 
conference  ;  the  necessity  of  copying  my  own  notes  myself,  on 
account  of  the  secrecy  imposed,  has  prevented  my  sending  to 
you  until  this  moment.  I  have  given  an  elementary  form  to 
this  account,  in  order  that,  when  M.  de  Maurepas  shows  it  to 
the  king,  his  inexperience  in  affairs  of  so  complicated  a  nature 
may  not  prevent  him  from  understanding  all  its  bearings." 
Farther  on,  we  find  the  minister  Necker  entering  into  com- 
munication with  Beaumarchais,  either  on  the  subject  of  tlie 
transit  of  tobacco  from  America,  or  on  the  most  economical 
means  of  supplying  provisions  to  the  French  troops  sent  to  the 
United  States.     Farther  on  again,  we  find  another  minister 

*  This  was,  doubtless,  some  other  financier,  who  was  associated  with 
Beaumarchais  in  this  plan  for  reorganizing  the  taxation,  which  was  not 
carried  ont. 

f  The  Mentor  is  M.  de  Maurepas ;  it  is  a  title  which  M.  de  Vergennes 
often  gives  him  in  his  letters. 


354  BEATJMARCHAIS   AOT>   HIS   TIMES. 

of  finance,  M.  Joly  de  Fleury,  consulting  Beaumarchais  on  a 
projected  loan ;  elsewhere  we  find  the  minister  of  marine  ask- 
ing for  his  opinion,  or  commissioning  him  to  superintend  some 
financial  operation  relative  to  his  department.  Frequently 
Beaumarchais  interferes  himself,  by  means  of  various  Memo- 
rials, in  questions  of  general  interest,  such,  for  instance,  as  the 
"  civil  condition  of  the  Protestants,"  for  whom,  in  the  default 
of  any  thing  better,  he  contributes  at  least  to  obtain  admission 
into  the  Chambers  of  Commerce,  Certain  towns,  such  as  Bor- 
deaux, excluded  them  still  in  1779,  when  the  finances  of  the 
state  were  directed  by  a  Protestant. 

Sometimes,  even  by  a  rather  amusing  contrast,  Beaumar- 
chais, who  was  so  often  at  open  war  with  the  censorship,  finds 
himself  invested  with  the  functions,  not  of  an  official,  but  of  an 
oflficious  censor.  "  Here,  sir,"  writes  the  lieutenant  of  police, 
Lenoir,  to  him,  in  a  letter  dated  December  19,  1779,  "is  a 
manuscript,  for  which  permission  to  print  is  requested.  I 
have  not  read  it ;  I.  beg  you  to  give  me  you  opinion  about  it." 
It  was  a  singular  idea  to  transform  into  a  censor  a  man  who 
was  so  frequently  censured.  Beaumarchais'  answer  indicates 
a  little  embarrassment  in  the  exercise  of  functions  of  this  kind. 
The  work  submitted  to  him  turned  upon  the  American  war, 
upon  the  subject  of  which  he  had  himself  •written  a  pamphlet, 
which  had  just  been  partially  suppressed.  He  replied  to  the 
magistrate  that  he  found  nothing  blamable  in  the  work,  full 
of  "political  pleasantry,"  which  had  been  addressed  to  him, 
and  that  the  censorship,  "properly  so  called,"  ought  not  to 
prevent  its  publication.  However,  as  he  does  not  wish  to  be 
inferior  to  the  austere  part  of  censor,  and  as  he  acknowledges 
that  the  tone  of  the  work  in  question  is  not  in  harmony  with 
the  gravity  of  the  subject,  he  adds  these  lines,  which  are  rather 
curious  as  coming  from  the  pen  of  the  author  of  "  The  Mar- 
riage of  Figaro."  "  This  work  is  wanting  in  that  patriotic  de- 
corum, so  little  known  in  this  country,  in  which  every  thing  is  made 
tJie  subject  of  jest ;  present  events  are  the  sacred  vases  of  politics; 
we  should  either  he  silent,  or  assume  the  elevated  tone  which  inspires 
reject.  After  this,  sir,  you  will  take  whatever  course  appears 
to  you  the  most  just."  It  is  seen  from  this  that  Beaumarchais 
has  no  vocation  for  the  office  of  censor,  and  that  he  scarcely 
knows  how  to  conclude. 


BKAOIAKCHAIS   A   UNIVEBSAL   PATRON,  355 

On  bad  terms  with  M.  Necker,  in  consequence  of  some  dis- 
agreement on  the  subject  of  financial  measures,  and  probably 
also  from  the  natural  unsuitableness  between  the  well-known 
stiffness  of  the  Genevese  minister  and  the  easy  freedom  of  his 
own  manners,  Beaumarchais  was  most  intimate  with  the  rival 
and  successor  of  M.  Necker,  M.  de  Calonne,  who  appears  to 
have  had  a  very  marked  liking  for  him.  The  reader  will,  per- 
haps, be  astonished  to  find — at  the  very  epoch  when  one  is  ac- 
customed to  look  upon  Beaumarchais  as  a  sort,  of  factious  per- 
son, battling  with  all  the  authorities  in  order  to  obtain  the 
production  of  a  seditious  comedy — the  reader  will  be  astonish- 
ed to  hear  of  M.  de  Calonne  granting  him,  on  the  part  of  the 
king,  a  considerable  indemnity,  which  he  had  long  claimed  in 
vain,  while  he  addresses  to  him  one  of  the  kindest  letters,  -writ- 
ten throughout  in  his  own  hand,  and  of  which  the  date  is  val- 
uable, for  it  precedes  only  by  three  months  that  of  the  first 
representation  of  "The  Marriage  of  Figaro." 

It  was  not  only  for  his  own  advantage  that  Beaumarchais 
made  use  of  his  influence  with  the  ministers,  he  was  the  patron 
of  a  host  of  petitioners  ;  men  of  letters,  artists,  financiers,  law- 
yers, actors,  actresses,  all  addressed  themselves  to  him.  Wheth- 
er he  was  pleading  with  M.  de  Maurepas  for  Marmontel,  who 
requested  a  place,  which  I  believe  was  that  of  historiographer ; 
whether  he  was  undertaking  the  defense  of  the  president  Du- 
paty,  his  friend,  before  the  keeper  of  the  seals,  against  the  ca- 
bals of  some  magistrates  who  had  raised  the  Parliament  of 
Bordeaux  against  him  ;  whether  he  was  requesting  M.  Necker 
to  come  to  the  assistance  of  some  banker  in  distress ;  or  wheth- 
er, pressed  by  the  supplications  of  the  La  Reyniere  family, 
who  are  frightened  by  the  wildness  of  one  of  their  sons,  he 
went  so  far  as  to  solicit  from  a  minister  of  the  king's  house- 
hold, M.  de  Breteuil,  the  prolongation  of  a  lettre  de  cachet 
against  this  maniacal  and  vindictive  son ;  or  whether,  in  fine, 
he  had  to  use  his  influence  for  some  artiste  with  the  nobles  who 
then  directed  the  royal  theatres,  Beaumarchais  worked  for  oth- 
ers with  as  much  ardor  and  persistence  as  for  himself. 

The  situation  of  Beaumarchais  as  a  man  of  the  world  in  the 
period  wliich  precedes  "  The  Marriage  of  Figaro"  would  fur- 
nish matter  for  sufficiently  numerous  quotations,  in  which  the 


356  BEAUMARCHAIS    AND    HIS   TEVIES. 

son  of  the  watchmaker  Caron  would  be  seen  freeing  his  style 
from  the  crudities  which  sometimes  appear  in  it,  in  order  to 
compete,  in  grace  and  elegance,  with  a  sufficiently  large  num- 
ber of  fair  ladies.  We  will  here  again  confine  ourselves  to 
presenting  a  single  specimen  of  this  mundane  side  of  Beaumar- 
chais'  wit,  and  we  select  it  as  serving  to  characterize,  to  a  cer- 
tain extent,  the  manners  of  the  time.  The  author  of  "  The 
Marriage  of  Figaro"  was  rather  intimate  with  the  Marquis  de 
Girardin,  at  whose  house  Eousseau  had  just  died,  at  Erma- 
nonville.  The  marquis  had  a  son,  a  young  officer,  who  was 
then  called  the  Viscount  d'Ermanonville,  and  who  became  at 
a  later  period  one  of  the  popular  orators  of  the  Restoration, 
under  the  name  of  Stanislas  de  Girardin.  This  young  officer, 
when  in  garrison  at  Vitry,  having  heard  of  a  song  "  plus  que 
grivoise,"  which  Beaumarchais  had  composed  in  his  youth, 
and  which  was  sung  with  success  among  sub-lieutenants,  de- 
sired to  possess  an  exact  copy  of  this  masterpiece,  and  instead 
of  applying  for  it,  either  to  the  author  himself  or  to  M.  de  Gi- 
rardin, his  father,  which  might  still  appear  to  us  allowable,  he 
took  a  course  which  in  the  present  day  seems  rather  strange ; 
he  wrote  to  the  marchioness,  his  mother,  to  beg  her  to  pro- 
cure him  from  Beaumarchais  this  not  very  moral  present,  and 
the  marchioness,  who,  to  teU  the  truth,  did  not  exactly  know 
to  what  point  the  "  levity"  of  this  song  was  carried,  hastened 
to  transmit  to  Beaumarchais  her  son's  request  in  the  follow- 
ing note : 

"  Wednesday. 

"  My  son  has  written  to  me,  sir,  for  a  song  of  yours  about  women. 
As  one  can  not  do  better  than  address  the  author  himself  to  obtain 
the  real  one,  I  hope  you  will  not  refuse  this  satisfaction  to  a  young 
man  who  desires  it  much.  As  it  is  directed,  according  to  what  I 
hear,  against  my  sex,  if  you  fear  it  would  not  be  polite  to  address  it 
to  me,  you  will  have  the  kindness  to  send  it  to  him  himself.*  M.  de 
Girardin  has  informed  me  of  the  pleasure  he  had  of  having  you  at 
his  house  for  some  days,  and  his  regret  at  your  stay  having  been  so 
short. 

"  I  have  the  honor  to  be  your  very  humble  and  very  obedient  serv- 
ant, B.  DE  Girardin." 

*  "  To  M.  le  Vicomte  d'Ermanonville,  officer  in  the  regiment  of  the 
Colonel-general  in  garrison  at  Vitry." 


BEAUMARCHAIS   ON    WOMAN.  357 

Now  comes  Beaumarchais'  answer ; 

"Paris,  March  25,  1780. 

"  No,  Madame  la  Marquise,  I  will  not  send  your  son  the  song  you 
ask  me  to  give  him.  He  may  wish  for  it  because  he  is  not  acquaint- 
ed with  it ;  but  I,  who  repent  having  composed  it  in  a  moment  of  ill- 
humor,  when  I  was  insane  enough  to  wish  to  punish  the  whole  of  the 
fair  sex  for  the  levity  of  one  coquette — in  one  of  those  moments  so 
much  at  variance  with  the  conduct  of  the  Savior,  in  which  one  would 
make  the  whole  world  suffer  for  the  sins  of  a  single  person,  I  shall 
not  open  the  heart  of  a  young  man  to  impressions  unfavorable  to 
those  he  ought  to  love  and  serve,  after  the  king,  all  his  life.  The 
work  of  M.  Thomas,  madame,  in  which  the  author  has  celebrated  the 
virtues  of  the  ladies,  in  two  handsome  volumes,  is  what  you  must 
send  him. 

"  For  the  rest,  as  no  one  is  a  better  judge  of  what  is  profitable  or 
injurious  to  her  son  than  an  excellent  mother  like  yourself,  I  have 
the  honor  to  address  this  song  to  you,  one  of  the  greatest  errors  of 
my  youth.  It  is  for  you,  madame,  to  keep  it  from  him  or  to  let  him 
have  it.  I  wash  my  hands,  among  the  innocent,  of  the  evil  which 
may  result  from  it  to  the  son,  if  the  mother  becomes  the  accomplice 
of  my  past  fault,  after  I  have  made  her  the  confidante  of  my  present 
scruples.  Nor  shall  I  seek  to  excuse  to  you  the  blasphemies  of  my 
song  with  the  guilty  levity  with  which  I  did  so  formerly,  when  a  lady 
who  was  incensed  asked  me  why  I  did  not  make  songs  about  the 
men.  '  Were  they  more  perfect  in  my  eyes  V  '  The  black  defects 
of  men,'  I  said  to  her,  '  are  only  fit  to  be  punished ;  those  of  women 
alone  are  charming  to  sing,  sometimes  even  to  share.'  That  was 
certainly  the  speech  of  a  young  man  who  was  abandoned  by  God, 
and  lost  in  licentiousness.  In  the  present  day  I  am  far  from  approv- 
ing of  such  lax  morality,  and  if  I  take  upon  myself  to  send  you  the 
song  with  all  it  has  blamable  about  it,  I  do  so  as  much  to  humiliate 
myself  before  you  for  having  committed  the  fault  of  writing  it,  as  to 
give  you  a  direct  proof  of  the  obedience  and  respectful  regard  with 
which,  Madame  la  Marquise,  I  have  the  honor  to  be,  &c., 

"  Caron  de  Beaumarchais." 

There  is  another  side  of  Beaumarchais's  life  at  this  epoch 
which  possesses  interest  not  only  in  itself,  but  also  as  explain- 
ing the  influence  he  could  exercise  at  a  given  moment.  He 
is  not  only  a  man  who  has  a  hold  on  the  minister,  who  pro- 
tects a  great  many  petitioners,  and  who  has  very  extensive 
connections  in  society  ;  he  is  also  an  opulent  financier,  who  is 
thought  more  rich  than  he  really  is,  and  who  gives  or  lends  a 
great  deal  of  money  to  all  sorts  of  persons.     His  cashier,  Gu- 


358  BEADMARCHAIS  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

din,  states  that  twenty  applications  for  money  reached  hina,  on 
the  average,  every  day ;  and  this  can  be  accounted  for.  By 
continually  speaking  ill  of  him,  his  enemies  obliged  him  to  speak 
well  of  himself.  He  was  often  obliged  to  make  some  display 
of  his  generosity.  The  consequence  was,  that  the  public  took 
him  at  his  word,  and  that  from  all  parts  of  France  he  was 
called  upon  to  prove  that  he  was  not  a  boaster.  Among  the 
invitations  of  this  kind  there  are  some  rather  original  ones. 

"  The  devil  take  me,  sir,"  writes  a  young  lieutenant  to  him,  from 
Saint  Brieuc,  "  you  are  a  delightful  man.  I  have  just  read  your  Me- 
morials,* which  have  given  me  infinite  pleasure.  It  is  impossible  to 
dispose  of  people  more  thoroughly.  I  have  been  told  that  you  are 
very  rich ;  well,  the  difference  is,  that  I  am  not  at  all  rich,  and  that 
twenty-five  louis  would  make  me  very  rich  indeed.  Then,  in  all 
conscience,  in  order  to  do  things  as  pleasantly  as  you  say  them,  you 
should  send  me  these  twenty-five  louis ;  I  will  return  them  to  you  in 
a  year,  on  the  faith  of  an  honest  man.  I  can  see  you  laughing  and 
saying,  '  Who  is  this  madman  V  and  why  so  ?  you  have  plenty  of 
money,  as  1  presume  ;  as  for  me,  I  have  very  little.  I  suppose  you 
to  be  a  benevolent  man,  who  would  rescue  a  poor  devil  from  trouble 
by  lending  him  twenty-five  louis,  which  he  is  in  a  position  to  restore 
to  you.  What  is  there  surprising  in  that  1  I  have  never  seen  you ! 
Well,  you  ought  to  be  more  obliged  to  me  for  thinking  you  sufficient- 
ly generous  to  lend  twenty-five  louis  to  a  man  who  wants  them,  and 
whom  you  have  never  seen.  Do  not  amuse  yourself  at  my  expense, 
and  send  my  letter  to  the  superior  officers  of  my  regiment ;  you  would 
make  me  wish  for  a  hole  to  hide  myself  in,  which,  at  all  events,  has 
never  happened  to  me.  But  no  ;  I  am  convinced  that  you  will  do  bet- 
ter, and  that  you  will  send  me  these  twenty-five  louis.  Come,  sir, 
give  me  your  hand,  and  let  it  be  a  bargain.  I  give  you  my  word  of 
honor  that  you  enjoy  in  my  mind  all  possible  consideration  and  re- 
spect, joined  to  all  the  admiration  of  which  I  am  capable,  because  I 
know  you  by  your  works,  and  that  I  feel  no  regard  for  persons  with 
whose  name  alone  I  am  acquainted. 

"  The  Chevalier  de  Saint-Martin, 
"  Sub-lieutenant  in  the  regiment  of  Aquitaine  (Infantry). 

"  Saint  Brieuc,  Brittany,  August  24,  1T80." 

On  this  letter  Beaumarchais  has  written,  "  Answered  Sep- 
tember 20th,  1780."  Unfortunately  I  can  not  find  the  copy 
of  his  answer.     The  author  of"  The  Marriage  of  Figaro"  was 

*  These  were  the  memorials  against  Goezman,  which  this  officer  read 
rather  late  in  the  day,  as  his  letter  was  written  in  17S0. 


BEAUilARCHAia   AND    HIS    IX)AJSS.  330 

original  enough  himself  to  be  able  to  appreciate  the  originali- 
ty of  the  request,  and  I  should  not  be  astonished  if  he  had  sent 
the  twenty-five  louis.  When  we  find  a  sub-lieutenant,  per- 
fectly unknown  to  Beaumarchais,  thus  attacking  his  purse 
from  the  depths  of  Brittany,  we  can  easily  understand  to  what 
degree  he  must  have  been  tormented  by  all  the  varieties  of 
petitioners,  borrowers,  and  all  the  unhappy  beings  with  which 
Paris  abounds.  His  papers  are  full  of  incidents  of  this  kind. 
I  will  cite  one  out  of  a  thousand,  because  it  relates  to  a  rath- 
er celebrated  poet,  and  because  Beaumarchais,  who  for  the  rest 
never  mentioned  it,  even  after  the  death  of  the  man  he  had 
obliged  -with  so  much  delicacy,  appears  in  it  worthy  of  the 
part  of  Maecenas,  which  he  was  so  fond  of  playing  during  this 
brilliant  period  of  his  life. 

Every  one  knows  Dorat,  but  every  one  does  not  perhaps 
know  that  this  poet,  whose  name  gives  the  idea  of  a  frivolous 
and  careless  life,  died  at  the  age  of  forty-six,  a  prey  to  the 
deepest  grief.  He  was  a  weak  man,  but  endowed  with  the 
most  deUcate  sentiments.  After  having  been  in  possession  of 
a  certain  amount  of  property,  want  of  order,  vanity,  and  also 
accidents  independent  of  his  will,  had  reduced  him,  little  by 
little,  to  complete  ruin,  and  even  to  a  still  more  painful  condi- 
tion, for  he  was  crushed  by  a  heap  of  debts  ;  and  with  a  heart 
proud  enough  to  suffer  mortally  from  it,  he  had  not  strength 
of  mind  sufficient  to  undertake  a  courageous  struggle  with 
fate.  His  health  had  gone,  and  he  was  pining  gradually  away, 
concealing  as  he  best  could  the  mental  anguish  which  was  de- 
vouring him  beneath  the  paint,  mouclie,  and  ribbons  of  his 
character  as  "  bard  of  the  graces."  It  was  then  that  his 
friend,  Countess  Fanny  de  Beauhamais — she  who,  according 
to  Lebrun,  "  composed  her  face,  but  not  her  verses,"  who  was 
nevertheless  an  excellent  woman — after  rendering  to  Dorat  all 
the  services  allowed  by  her  very  limited  personal  resources, 
decided,  without  the  knowledge  of  her  friend,  on  applying  to 
Beaumarchais,  whom  she  did  not  know  at  all,  and  who  was 
but  very  slightly  acquainted  with  Dorat.  She  consequently 
wrote  a  very  touching  letter  to  the  author  of  "  The  Barber  of 
Seville,"  in  which,  after  describing  Dorat's  distress,  and  in- 
forming him  that  a  mutual  friend  would  tell  him  more,  she 


360  BEAUMARCHAIS    AND    HIS    TIMES. 

asked  for  a  loan  of  20,000  francs.  To  lend  20,000  francs  to 
a  man  completely  ruined  was  to  give  them.  Beaumarchais  at 
first  thought  the  sum  rather  large ;  the  following  is  his  first 
answer  to  Madame  de  Beauharnais : 

"  Paris,  March  20, 1779. 

"  Your  letter,  Madame  la  Comtesse,  affected  me  deeply.  Never 
did  tender  friendship  paint  its  solicitude  in  a  more  touching  manner. 
I  know  you,  honor  you,  and  I  love  you  from  this  letter;  but  how  you 
afflict  me  by  asking  for  your  friend  assistance  which  it  is  out  of  my 
power  to  give !  I  esteem  him,  and  think  highly  of  his  works ;  be- 
sides, I  consider  we  ought  to  do  as  much  good  as  we  can  in  order  to 
be  as  happy  as  our  station  will  admit :  such  is  my  natural  feehng, 
and  the  fruit  of  a  whole  life's  reflection.  I  hold  to  it  without  display, 
and  careless  of  what  men  may  say  or  think  of  me.  Now  let  us  re- 
turn to  your  case,  madame. 

"  Your  confidence  excites  mine,  and  I  ought  to  speak  without  re- 
serve. People  are  mistaken  about  the  easiness  of  my  circumstances, 
as  about  all  my  other  affairs.  I  am  not  a  great  capitalist,  but  a  great 
administrator.  The  fortune  of  my  friends,  confided  to  my  prudence, 
obliges  me  to  be  circumspect  and  scrupulous  in  the  use  of  their  funds; 
whence  it  foUows  that  I  can  give  a  suffering  friend  25,  50,  or  100 
louis,  by  taking  them  from  the  money  which  belongs  to  me  in  the 
business ;  but  I  can  do  no  more  without  placing  in  my  cash-box 
a  sum  in  paper  equivalent  to  the  money  I  draw  from  it ;  and  I  know 
too  well  that  poor  people  can  not  give  good  equivalents  for  the  money 
they  borrow :  that  is  just  the  reason  why  they  are  in  want  of  it.  It 
is  therefore  with  much  pain  that  I  find  it  physically  impossible  to  lend 
your  friend  the  large  sum  he  requires. 

"  As  to  those  private  loans  which  my  sensibility  has  drawn  from 
me  incessantly  during  the  last  four  years,  the  cursed  reputation  I  have 
of  being  a  rich  man  has  caused  such  an  accumulation  of  these  de- 
mands, that  it  seems  as  if  all  the  unfortunate  people  in  the  kingdom 
had  agreed  to  oppress  my  heart,  and  to  load  it  with  unhappiness.  I 
can  not  open  my  letters  without  grief,  as  I  am  always  sure  to  find  in 
them  the  fresh  misfortune  of  becoming  acquainted  with  another  suf- 
ferer, often  without  having  it  in  my  power  to  assist  him. 

"  Such  is  my  life  :  great  labor,  small  rewards  ;  an  expensive  sta- 
tion in  life,  little  fortune,  and  an  eternal  circle  of  the  most  heart- 
rending correspondence  with  a  host  of  poor  creatures  whose  wants 
have  become  my  own.  If  you  have  a  friend  who  knows  me  well,  he 
will  tell  you  that  this  picture  of  myself  and  my  position  is  the  truest 
I  can  give  you. 

"  However  this  may  be,  madame,  make  this  mutual  friend  come 


BEAUMAKCHAIS   AND    HIS    LOANS.  361 

and  see  me ;  since  he  has  deserved  your  confidence,  he  shall  have 
mine.  We  will  talk  over  M.  Dorat's  affairs  ;  he  will  explain  to  me 
the  nature  of  his  wants,  his  fears,  and  his  hopes,  and  when  I  am  bet- 
ter informed  on  the  subject,  if  I  can  assist  him,  believe  me,  madame, 
that  while  burying  with  the  most  religious  scrupulousness  all  that  he 
wishes  to  be  kept  secret,  I  will  overcome  impossibilities  in  order  that 
your  confidence  in  me  may  not  be  totally  useless  to  him. 
"  I  have  the  honor  to  be,  with  the  greatest  respect,  &c., 

"  Caron  de  Beaumarchais." 

Just  as  Beaumarchais  was  finishing  this  letter,  Dorat's  new 
advocate,  whom  Madame  de  Beauharnais  had  announced  with- 
out naming,  entered ;  he  was  an  ofiicer  of  whom  we  shall  have 
occasion  to  speak  again,  and  who  was  one  of  his  oldest  friends. 
Beaumarchais  then  added  a  postscript  to  his  letter,  which  al- 
lows us  in  some  measure  to  follow  the  working  of  the  good 
feeling  which  prompted  him : 

"  My  friend  Datilly  came  just  as  I  was  about  to  close  this  letter: 
his  story  pierces  my  very  heart.  I  certainly  can  not  dispose  of  the 
20,000  francs  wliich  you  require ;  but  once  more ;  if  M.  Dorat,  who  is 
slightly  acquainted  with  me,  is  not  offended  at  your  having  confided 
the  secret  of  his  misfortunes  to  me,  get  him  to  come  and  talk  over  it 
frankly  with  me,  or  deign  to  give  me  the  particulars,  and  all  my  re- 
sources shall  be  at  his  service."' 

Madame  de  Beauharnais  answered  Beaumarchais  that  Dorat 
was  in  the  country,  and  would  go  to  him  on  his  return.  A 
fortnight  passed ;  Beaumarchais  wanted  to  leave  Paris  in  or- 
der to  arrange  some  business  ;  he  feared  that  Dorat's  pride 
would  prevent  his  calling  on  him,  and,  as  impatient  to  assist 
an  unfortunate  person  as  another  would  be  to  avoid  him,  he 
wrote  a  second  letter  to  Madame  de  Beauharnais,  which  seems 
to  me  to  be  the  expression  of  a  truly  excellent  heart.  Let 
the  reader  judge  for  himself: 

"  Paris,  April  6, 1TT9. 

"  I  have  not  seen  your  friend,  Madame  la  Comtesse.  Is  he  still  in 
the  country,  or  does  he  disapprove  of  the  confidence  you  placed  in 
me? 

"  It  would  be  well  for  us  to  have  a  conference  before  my  depart-* 
ure  for  Bordeaux,  which  will  take  place  in  a  few  days.     He  is  per- 
haps ignorant  of  the  courage  and  strength  possessed  by  a  sensitive 
man  who  has  been  tried  by  adverse  fortune.     I  am  that  man,  and, 
very  different  from  those  whose  fortune  has  improved,  I  take  pleas- 

Q 


362  BEAUMAECHAIS    AK1>    HIS    TDIES. 

ure  in  consoling  the  unfortanate  who  are  deserving,  and  of  restoring 
to  them  tliat  spring,  so  necessary  to  the  mind,  which  misfortune  al- 
ways mibends.  Perhaps,  by  dint  of  thinking,  I  may  have  found  some 
way  of  helping  him  out  of  his  distress.  I  do  not  know,  but  some- 
thing tells  me  that  I  shall  not  be  quite  useless  to  him.  I  shudder 
when  I  think  that  one  moment  of  despair  lost  the  life  of  poor  Mai- 
robert,  who  had  a  thousand  ways  of  amply  redeeming  his  character 
from  the  bad  effects  of  a  sentence  which  was,  perhaps,  rather  too 
thoughtlessly  pronounced.*  He  asked  to  see  me ;  he  said  he  was 
in  want  of  my  advice.  Without  knowing  what  his  trouble  was,  I 
wrote  to  him  that  he  would  always  be  welcome,  for  I  had  known  him 
for  twenty  years  as  a  wild  fellow  and  brave  man.  The  sentence  of 
Parliament  was  suddenly  passed  ;  he  killed  himself.  If  he  did  not 
deserve  the  sentence,  at  any  rate  he  was  wrong  in  putting  an  end  to 
his  life.  With  courage  and  patience  one  can  overcome  every  thing ; 
if  he  was  guilty,  I  forgive  him  :  one  can  not  survive  deserved  shame. 

"  The  present  case  is  very  different ;  but  this  Mairobert  has  dark- 
ened my  heart.  I  do  not  like  an  unfortunate  person  to  suffer  with- 
out communicating  his  troubles.  No  one  knows  to  what  point  the 
head  in  that  state  may  be  excited.  Again,  madame,  do  send  your 
friend,  that  I  may  see  him,  that  he  may  hear  me !  And,  if  possible, 
we  will  succeed  in  saving  him  by  uniting  his  efforts  with  mine. 

"  I  have  the  honor  to  be,  with  the  greatest  respect,  &c., 

"  Caron  de  Beaumarchais." 

At  last  Dorat  went  to  this  generous  man,  who  so  cordially 
offered  his  assistance ;  and  from  the  tone  of  his  letter  to  Beau- 
marchais, after  their  hearts  had  been  opened  at  the  first  inter- 
view, we  can  appreciate  the  delicacy  with  which  the  author 
of  "  The  Barber  of  Seville"  knew  how  to  encourage  and  assist 
those  in  whom  he  was  interested. 

"  April  12,  1TT9. 

"  Monsieur  et  cher  ami,"  wrote  Dorat — "  after  your  conduct  to- 
ward me,  allow  me  to  address  you  by  this  title — what  pleasure  I 
have  in  assuring  you  that  I  left  your  house  relieved  of  a  great  bur- 
den, penetrated  with  the  greatest  gratitude,  and  consoled  for  the  first 
time  in  three  years,  during  which  I  have  been  struggling  inwardly, 
with  the  most  painful  courage,  against  all  the  crises  of  my  position. 
You  were,  doubtless,  the  only  person  in  the  world  who  could  free  me 
^rom  them.     When  your  name  was  mentioned  to  me,  I  became  tran- 

*  This  Mairobert  was  a  rather  clever  \vriter,  invested  with  the  func- 
tions of  censor.  Being  implicated,  says  Grimn?,  in  a  dishonorable  man- 
ner in  a  lawsuit  relating  to  the  Marquis  du  Brunoy,  he  opened  his  veins 
in  a  warm  bath. 


BEAUMARCHAI3    AND    HIS   LOANS.  363 

quil.  The  same  strength  of  mind  which  made  you  overcome  all  your 
enemies,  has  now  become  turned  into  pity  for  the  unfortunate.  I  am 
proud  at  having  discovered  your  virtues  in  the  midst  of  your  talents, 
which  are  at  once  so  brilliant,  so  charming.  I  tell  you  all  that  my 
heart,  which  you  have  solaced  and  which  yearns  toward  you,  inspires 
me  with.  It  is  a  pleasure  for  me  to  have  cause  for  loving  one  I  have 
always  esteemed.  You  asked  me  the  real  state  of  my  affairs.  I  owe 
nearly  sixty  thousand  francs — for  half  I  could  get  time  allowed  ;  but 
my  honor,  my  rest,  my  health,  my  life  indeed,  require  me  to  pay  the 
rest  in  the  course  of  a  year  or  fifteen  months,  at  different  times.  All 
the  engagements  I  make  with  you  shall  be  sacred :  I  would  sign  them 
with  my  blood.  Madame  de  B.,  whose  fortune  will  be  considerable, 
will,  if  necessary,  be  security ;  and  two  interesting  beings  wiU  offer 
to  you,  with  tears  of  gratitude,  two  souls  which  make  but  one. 

"  Forgive  the  disorder  of  my  letter  and  of  my  ideas ;  I  am  invol- 
untarily moved  while  writing  to  you.  I  think,  by  dint  of  kindness, 
you  have  made  me  better  than  I  was,  and  I  certainly  was  not  wicked ; 
but  let  me  confide  to  you  the  weight  which  oppresses  and  kills 
me." 

Then  follows  a  detailed  account  of  his  debts ;  but  the  un- 
happy poet  deceived  himself:  he  hoped  to  clear  himself  by  his 
labor,  and  he  was  dying.  He  offered  his  signature :  it  was 
of  no  value ;  that  of  Madame  de  Beauhamais  was  worth  no 
more.  Beaumarchais  saw  all  this  clearly;  he  asked  for  no 
signature :  what  he  did  was  merely  to  soothe  the  last  days 
of  an  interesting  man  who  was  dying ;  he  authorized  Dorat 
to  draw  upon  him  from  month  to  month  for  the  sums  he 
required.  In  ten  months,  the  29th  of  April,  1780,  Dorat 
died.  During  these  ten  months  Beaumarchais  had  given  him, 
in  sums  of  25  and  50  louis,  8400  livres ;  and  the  cashier  Gu- 
din,  after  carefully  adding  up  the  sums,  wrote  on  the  poet's 
papers,  in  the  terrible  language  of  an  accountant :  "  Dorat 
died  insolvent,  Ao.  23."  He  was  No.  23  of  the  Insolvent 
Debtors.  These  numbers  go  beyond  the  hundred  in  the  pa- 
pers of  the  author  of  "  The  Barber  of  Seville." 

Beaumarchais,  however,  was  sometimes  tired  of  being  the 
banker  of  so  many  poor  literary  men  ;  he  turned  a  deaf  ear  to 
them,  and  this  was  considered  cruel.  We  know  with  what 
bitterness  Rivarol  loved  to  exercise  his  satirical  vein  on  him ; 
this  is  how  the  author  of  "  The  Marriage  of  Figaro"  became 
acquainted  with  the  Kivarols.     The  following  letter  is  from 


364  BEAU>IARCHAIS   AND    HIS   TIMES. 

the  younger  of  the  two  brothers,  who  was  also  somewhat  of  a 
literary  character,  and  who  afterward  became  field-marshal 
during  the  Restoration.  At  the  time  at  which  it  was  \\Titten, 
the  elder  Kivarol  had  not  yet  published  any  thing  against 
Beaumarchais. 

"  Sir, — I  have  not  the  honor  to  be  known  to  you,  and  yet  I  apply 
to  you  to  beg  you  to  render  me  an  important  service,  which  I  am 
perfectly  convinced  you  will  not  refuse  me.  You  are  oppressed  and 
calumniated  because  you  have  not  met  with  success,  and  done  good  ; 
envy  has  attached  itself  to  you ;  it  follows  you  as  the  shadow  follows 
the  substance  ;  the  multitude  are  against  you,  but  there  are  some  up- 
right feeling  minds,  who  know  how  to  do  you  justice,  and  I  am  of 
the  number.  You  would  not  have  so  many  enemies  if  you  were 
without  merit ;  insignificant  men  are  ignored.  Voltaire  says  some- 
where, '  A  few  enemies  make  one  miserable,  but  many  are  an  honor.' 
Therefore,  sir,  you  ought  to  console  yourself  What  can  you  care 
for  those  little  minds  which  cry  out  against  you?  With  talents, 
philosophy,  and  fortune,  are  you  not  sufficiently  revenged  on  them? 
For  a  long  time  I  have  spoken  highly  of  you  in  the  society  I  fre- 
quent. I  have  taken  up  young  fops  and  old  fools,  who  sought,  with- 
out foundation,  to  depreciate  you,  and  even  to  blacken  your  fame. 
I  have  succeeded  in  silencing  them,  by  preaching  the  truth  to  them, 
and  asking  them  continually  whether  they  know  M.  de  Beaumar- 
chais, and  if  they  had  ever  visited  him.     They  dare  not  say  Yes. 

"  This  is  the  way  of  the  world,  sir ;  calumny  is  eternally  distilling 
its  poisons  without  precaution  and  without  care.  I  myself  have  been 
its  victim  for  having  had  some  wretched  verses  printed  in  the  public 
papers.  A  crowd  of  literary  boys  rose  against  me ;  they  sought  to 
torment  me,  and  they  succeeded,  because  I  am  violent  and  sensitive, 
and  I  have  now  abandoned  this  sad  profession.  I  am  going  to  fol- 
low that  of  arms,  which  I  had  neglected  for  the  study  of  letters,  and 
I  will  manage  to  distinguish  myself  as  my  ancestors  did.  I  have 
lately  obtained  some  employment  in  the  service  of  the  States-Gen- 
eral (Holland)  ;  my  family  resides  in  Languedoc,  and  I  am  to  set  out 
instantly.  I  have  not  time  to  write  to  them.  At  Paris  I  have  many 
acquaintances,  and  but  one  friend,  and  this  friend  is  not  in  easy  cur- 
cumstances,  which  is  quite  natural :  friendship  requires  so  perfect  an 
equality ;  as  Milton  says, '  Among  equals  no  society.' 

"  In  consideration  of  what  I  have  confessed  to  you,  I  must  beg  of 
you  to  lend  me  twenty-five  louis.  If  you  refuse,  you  will  cause  me 
to  lose  a  profession  which  may  aflford  me  those  means  of  existence  I 
am  now  in  want  of  I  will  give  you  my  note  of  honor  for  this  sum ; 
and  that  you  may  not  have  the  least  suspicion  about  what  I  have  said 


BEAUMAKCHAIS   AKD   HIS   LOAKS.  365 

— as  I  have  not  the  honor  to  be  known  to  you — you  would  greatly 
oblige  me  by  making  inquiries  of  M.  le  Marquis  de  Bourzac,  lieuten- 
ant-colonel of  the  corps  I  am  about  to  enter.  I  shall  require  a  year, 
sir,  to  repay  you  this  sum,  and  you  may  rely  on  my  word.  If  you 
will  allow  me  to  have  the  honor  to  see  you,  you  will  soon  learn  to 
know  me.  My  heart  is  always  open,  although  to  men  it  ought  al- 
ways to  be  closed  ;  in  spite  of  my  youth,  I  have  already  experienced 
this.  Allow  me,  sir,  to  present  you  with  a  little  poem  which  I  pub- 
lished last  year,  and  a  tale  which  I  have  just  had  printed.*  I  have 
taken  for  my  motto, '  II  vaut  mieux  faire  des  riens  que  de  ne  rien 
faire.' 

"  I  am,  with  the  greatest  respect,  sir,  your  very  humble  and  very 
obedient  servant.  The  Chevalier  de  Rivarol. 

"  P.S. — The  Marquis  de  Bourzac  lives  Rue  Montmartre,  near  the 
Egout ;  and  I  live  Rue  Neuve-St.-Roch,  opposite  the  Rue  des  Moi- 
neaux." 

It  is  probable  that  Beaumarchais  was  insensible  to  the  elo- 
quence of  this  letter,  and  did  not  lend  the  wished-for  sum ; 
for,  dating  from  this  time,  the  warm  enthusiasm  of  the  cheva- 
lier turned,  in  the  person  of  his  brother  the  count,  into  out- 
rageous, pointed  contempt ;  but  what  is  curious  is,  that  at  the 
very  time  when  the  most  celebrated  of  the  Rivarols  was  at- 
tacking Beaumarchais  most  violently,  another  member  of  the 
family  persisted  in  tormenting  him  with  very  pressing  and  fre- 
quent demands  for  money.  This  was  no  other  than  the  act- 
ual wife  of  this  charming  Count  of  Rivarol,  who,  after  having 
married  the  daughter  of  an  English  writing-master,  abandoned 
her,  and  left  her  with  a  child  and  the  more  or  less  authentic 
title  of  Countess.  Among  Beaumarchais'  papers  are  the  most 
lamentable  missives  left  by  this  poor  woman.  The  author  of 
"  The  IMarriage  of  Figaro"  revenged  himself  on  the  count  by 
giving  from  time  to  time  a  few  crowns  to  the  countess,  which 
procured  him  the  pleasure  of  comparing  the  sentimental  prose 
of  the  wife  with  the  bitter  satire  of  the  husband.  The  con- 
trast is  striking :  "  I  sought  a  man,  sir,"  writes  the  Countess 
de  Rivarol,  "and  I  found  a  god.  I  will  but  say  with  Peri- 
cles, '  Ah,  my  son,  we  were  dying,  if  not  dead !'  My  pretty 
little  creature  can  not  yet  understand  me.     Grant  my  mater- 

*  The  date  of  the  tale  in  question,  called  "  Osman ;  or,  Fatalism," 
gives  us  that  of  the  letter,  which  is  not  dated ;  it  was  written  in  1785. 


366  BEAUMARCHAIS   AND   HIS   TIMES. 

nal  affection  the  pleasure  of  presenting  him  to  you  one  of  these 
days,  that  he  may  stretch  out  his  pretty  little  hands  to  you  as 
to  his  God  and  his  Savior."  While  Beaumarchais  was  sup- 
plying the  wife  and  child  of  Rivarol  with  bread,  the  latter 
wrote  against  him  the  celebrated  parody  of  the  "  Eecit  de 
Theramene,"  and  thus  did  their  actions  differ. 

Every  one  must  agree  that  Beaumarchais  was  not  ill-na- 
tured, for  he  had  only  to  circulate  Madame  de  Rivarol's  let- 
ters to  reduce  the  husband  to  silence. 

By  the  side  of  the  literary  people  who  besieged  Beaumar- 
chais for  money  were  several  noblemen.  They  formed  for  him 
a  sort  of  clientele  of  patrician  debtors,  who  helped  him  some- 
times to  surmount  the  diflBculties  of  his  position. 

Of  all  Beaumarchais'  aristocratic  debtors,  the  most  original, 
beyond  contradiction,  is  the  Prince  of  Nassau-Siegen,  repre- 
sentative of  the  Catholic  branch  of  the  house  of  Nassau.  A 
comedy  might  be  made  of  Beaumarchais'  relations  with  this 
prince  and  the  princess  his  wife,  who  was  not  less  eccentric 
than  her  husband.  These  relations  of  very  close  friendship 
lasted  more  than  ten  years,  and  the  numerous  evidences  of  it, 
which  remain  in  the  papers  of  the  author  of  "  The  Marriage 
of  Figaro,"  present  the  elements  of  a  picture  of  manners  which 
we  will  content  ourselves  with  merely  sketching.  All  the 
survivors  of  ancient  France  who  have  left  us  their  souvenirs  of 
the  period  preceding  the  Revolution — M.  de  Segur,  the  Duke 
de  Levis,  the  Prince  de  Ligne,  Madame  Lebrun,  &c. — all  agree 
in  representing  the  Prince  de  Nassau-Siegen  as  one  of  the 
strangest  characters  of  his  time.  "  He  was,"  says  M.  de  Segur, 
**a  true  phenomenon  in  the  midst  of  a  time  and  country  in 
which  the  effect  of  a  long  civilization  has  been  to  give  to  all 
minds  a  uniform  resemblance."  "  The  Prince  of  Nassau,"  says 
the  Duke  de  Levis,  "had  the  greater  number  of  those  qualities 
which  enter  into  the  character  of  heroes — their  enterprising 
disposition,  prodigious  activity,  love  of  glory,  and  a  sovereign 
contempt  for  life.  He  sought  out  opportunities  for  distin- 
guishing himself,  and  these  opportunities  did  not  fail  him ; 
however,  he  only  left  the  reputation  of  an  adventurer,  and  dur- 
ing his  life  had  more  celebrity  than  consideration."  We  can 
already  recognize  some  analogy,  which  will  help  to  explain 


TUK   PRENCE   DE   NASSAU-SIEGEN.  3G7 

tb<j  intimacy  between  Beaumarchais  and  the  prince,  whose 
life  we  will  first  of  all  sum  up.  The  Prince  of  Nassau  had 
through  his  grandmother,  Charlotte  de  Mailly,  aunt  of  the 
Duchess  of  Chateauroux,  P'rench  blood  in  his  veins ;  his  origin 
was  even  thought  to  be  completely  French,  as  the  legitimacy 
of  his  father,  although  acknowledged  by  a  decree  of  the  Parlia- 
ment of  Paris,  had  been  contested,  and  denied  in  Germany  by 
the  Aulic  Council-  Thus  Nassau  found  himself,  from  his 
youth,  a  German  prince  recognized  in  France,  rejected  in 
Germany,  and  deprived  of  his  princedom.  At  the  age  of 
fifteen  he  had  enlisted  in  a  French  regiment  as  a  volunteer; 
at  eighteen  he  was  a  captain  of  dragoons,  and  he  first  attract- 
ed public  attention  by  sailing  round  the  world  with  Bougain- 
ville. In  his  travels  he  had  had  famous  duels  with  tigers  and 
lions,  which  had  procured  him  the  surname  of  "  the  tamer  of 
monsters ;"  and  on  his  return  he  had  been  appointed  colonel 
of  the  royal  German  regiment  (cavalr)').  Although  he  had  a 
preference  for  residing  in  Paris  or  Versailles,  he  led  the  life  of 
a  Paladin  of  the  Middle  Ages,  always  in  quest  of  adventures 
and  wai'like  enterprises.  Wherever  there  was  fighting  in  Eu- 
rope he  was  sure  to  be  found ;  at  one  time,  commanding  a  float- 
ing battery  at  the  celebrated  siege  of  Gibraltar,  he  was  seen  to 
quit  his  burning  boat  last  of  all,  and  to  swim  to  the  shore 
with  a  smile  on  his  lips  under  a  hail  of  cannon  balls;  at  an- 
other time,  in  the  service  of  Russia,  with  flat-bottomed  boats 
he  destroyed  a  Turkish  squadron  at  Oczakow,  or  dispersed  a 
Swedish  fleet  in  the  Baltic  Cavalry  or  infantry  soldier,  gen- 
eral or  admiral,  he  sought  with  ecjual  ardor  every  kind  of  com- 
bat on  both  elements,  and  this  warrior  of  fabulous  daring, 
this  "  tamer  of  monsters,"  who  was  otherwise  tall  and  person- 
ally well  formed  "  had,"  says  Madame  Lebrun,  in  her  "  Sou- 
venirs," "  the  mild  and  timid  air  of  a  young  lady  who  is  com- 
ing out  of  her  convent."  This  was  the  heroic  side  of  the 
Prince  of  Nassau :  his  comic  side  consisted  in  an  absolute  im- 
possibility to  appreciate  the  value  of  money,  which  fell  through 
his  fingers  like  water ;  so  much  so,  that  this  hero,  the  most 
essentially  "  cracked"  of  all  heroes,  divided  his  life  between 
dispersing  fleets,  routing  battalions,  and  flying  terror-stricken 
before  creditors,  process-servers,  and  b^ilifis,  who  did  not  leave 
him  an  instant's  repose. 


368  BEAUMARCHAIS  AND    HIS   TlilES. 

It  was  by  this  weak  side  that  the  Prince  of  Nassau  had  at- 
tached himself  to  Beaumarchais  as  to  a  guardian  angel  des- 
tined to  preserve  him  from  the  only  kind  of  danger  which  he 
feared.  It  was  Beaumarchais  who  had  to  pay  the  most  dan- 
gerous creditors,  to  make  the  others  wait,  to  revise  the  fantas- 
tic accounts  of  some,  to  guard  against  the  snares  laid  by  others ; 
in  a  word,  to  extricate  his  hero  from  the  infernal  band  which 
was  always  attached  to  his  steps. 

The  intimacy  between  Beaumarchais  and  the  prince  had 
commenced  in  1779  ;  the  following  was  the  occasion.  As  there 
was  some  idea,  at  this  time,  of  invading  England,  Nassau,  who 
had  already  the  command  of  a  regiment  of  cavalry,  had,  more- 
over, formed  a  body  of  men  called  the  Nassau  Legion,  and  had 
attempted,  with  his  ordinary  intrepidity,  a  coup  de  main  upon 
the  island  of  Jersey.  The  French  government  having  re- 
nounced its  project,  the  prince  requested  that  the  volunteers 
who  had  been  formed  by  him  might  be  incorporated  with  the 
king's  troops,  and  that  he  might  be  paid  for  them,  the  money 
being  destined  for  repaying  the  expenses  of  equipment,  which 
he  had  advanced,  or,  rather,  for  which  he  had  run  into  debt, 
and  for  indemnifying  the  officers  of  the  corps  for  their  ex- 
penses. The  minister  of  marine,  fearing  that  the  money,  if 
given  directly  to  the  Prince  of  Nassau,  would  disappear  as  us- 
ual, to  the  detriment  of  the  creditors  of  the  legion,  had  com- 
missioned Beaumarchais  to  superintend  the  liquidation,  and  to 
advance  the  necessaiy  sums  by  installments,  taking  care  to  pay 
the  creditors  before  indemnifying  the  prince.  The  situation 
of  Beaumarchais  was  a  delicate  one.  Nassau,  constantly  har- 
assed by  personal  creditors,  was  perpetually  asking  for  money. 
Beaumarchais,  while  giving  him  a  little,  endeavored  to  make 
him  understand  that  it  was  necessary,  first  of  all,  to  pay  the 
creditors  of  the  legion,  and  profited  by  the  occasion  to  give  this 
hero,  from  time  to  time,  some  lessons  in  domestic  enonomy. 

"  My  prince,"  he  writes  to  him,  under  date  of  August  1, 1779,  "I 
have  the  honor  to  remit  to  you  a  rescription  of  6000  livres.  You 
must  not  be  displeased  with  me  if  I  imitate  good  parents,  who  econ- 
omize on  the  pleasures  of  their  children  in  order  to  liquidate  their 
important  debts.  Many  persons  think  it  wrong,  even  now,  that  I 
should  take  upon  myself  to  set  aside,  for  your  wants,  500  louis,  which 


BEAUMAECHAIS  NASSAU'S  TBEASHRER.  369 

if  paid  over,  they  say,  to  the  treasurer  of  the  navy,  would  have  been, 
in  consequence  of  their  opposition,  reserved  for  paying  them  in  pref- 
erence to  your  personal  orders.  It  is  certain  that  they  are  right  in 
this  respect.  Will  you  permit  me  to  ask  you  also,  my  prince,  why 
you  have  a  courier  who  costs  from  eighteen  to  twenty  louis,  for  a  pur- 
pose which  can  be  equally  well  attained  by  the  transmission  of  a  let- 
ter for  thirty  sous  ?  Either  you  pay  very  slight  attention  to  your 
expenses,  or  your  wants  are  not  so  pressing  as  you  say ;  and  I  am 
but  the  sad  echo  of  this  reflection,  which  may  strike  you  as  much  as 
it  did  me,  when  it  was  made  before  me. 

"  If  you  find  me  somewhat  more  austere,  my  prince,  than  my  repu- 
tation as  a  lively  man  seems  to  comport,  attribute  it  only  to  the  seri- 
ous and  genuine  interest  which  I  take  in  your  troubles ;  they  require 
all  the  care,  and  the  most  continuous  attention,  on  the  part  of  those 
who  are  laboring  to  free  you  from  them. 

"  I  place  myself  among  the  number  of  these  zealous  laborers,  while 
assuring  you  of  the  profound  respect  with  which  I  am,  my  prince,  &c., 

"  Caivon  pe  Beaumarchais." 

These  first  relations  between  Nassau  and  Beaumarchais  had 
soon  brought  about  an  intimacy  which  went  on  increasing, 
and  the  prince  had  accustomed  himself,  little  by  little,  to  look 
upon  his  friend  as  a  sort  of  guardian,  and,  above  all,  as  a  treas- 
urer who  had  been  given  him  by  Nature :  "  The  cash-box  of 
M.  de  Beaumarchais,"  said  the  guardian  of  this  cash-box,  Gu- 
din,  "  had  become  that  of  the  prince,  who  went  to  it  for  every 
thing  he  wanted."  "  My  dear  friend,  deliver  me  from  my  cred- 
itors ;  they  overwhelm  me,  and  turn  my  head My  dear 

Beaumarchais,  I  recommend  my  affairs  to  you,  as  you  promised 
to  look  to  them,  and  I  beg  you  to  be  certain  that  the  friendship 
I  have  sworn  to  you  will  only  finish  with  my  life."  Such  is 
the  ordinary  refrain  of  the  innumerable  letters  from  the  Prince 
de  Nassau  to  the  author  of  "  The  Marriage  of  Figaro."  The 
latter  gives  himself  up  with  an  inexhaustible  complaisance, 
mingled,  however,  sometimes  with  ill-humor,  to  this  part  of 
treasurer  and  guardian  which  the  Princess  of  Nassau  contrib- 
utes, for  her  part,  to  render  very  difiicult,  for  she  is  as  much 
"  cracked"  as  her  husband. 

She  was  a  Polish  princess,  who  had  been  married  to  Prince 
Sangusko,  and  divorced.  Although  Poland  is  a  Catholic  coun- 
try, it  is  known  that  divorce  is  tolerated  there.  The  Prince 
of  Nassau  was  anxious  to  have  his  marriage  recognized  by  the 

Q2 


370  BEAUMAKCHAIS   AND   HIS   TliEES. 

Archbishop  of  Paris ;  and  he  was  so  much  accustomed  to  make 
use  of  Beaumarchais  in  every  thing,  that  it  was  he  again  who 
had  to  plead  in  this  affair,  and  who  transmitted  to  the  prelate 
the  request  of  the  prince,  supported  by  himself.  I  regret  to 
have  been  unable  to  find  Beaumarchais'  plea  in  reference  to 
the  question,  but  the  reader  will,  perhaps,  not  be  sorry  to  meet 
with  the  answer  of  the  austere  prelate,  Christophe  de  Beau- 
mont, to  the  author  of  "  The  Marriage  of  Figaro"  pleading 
for  a  divorced  princess : 

"  Paris,  Sept.  13,  1780. 

"  I  send  you,  sir,  my  answer  to  the  letter  with  which  the  Prince  de 
Nassau  has  honored  me.  You  will  be  kind  enough  to  transmit  it  to 
him.  I  will  not  conceal  from  you  that  this  answer  is  a  negative  one. 
In  spite  of  my  desire  to  enter  into  the  views  of  the  prince,  I  could 
not  have  countenanced  his  marriage  without  acting  contrarily  to  the 
principles  of  the  Latin  Church,  which  recognizes  no  cause  of  divorce, 
and  especially  against  the  principles  of  the  Gallican  Church,  in  whi(;h 
there  has  been  no  instance  of  such  marriages.  Besides,  in  France 
there  is  a  perfect  conformity  between  the  civil  and  ecclesiastical  laws 
on  the  subject  of  divorce. 

"  Nothing  can  be  added  to  the  sincerity  of  the  sentiments  with 
which  I  am,  sir,  your  very  humble  and  very  obedient  servant, 

"  +  Christophe,  Archbishop  of  Paris." 

In  spite  of  the  refusal  of  the  archbishop,  the  marriage  of 
the  prince,  in  consideration  of  its  having  been  contracted  in 
Poland,  was  recognized  none  the  less  at  the  court  of  Ver- 
sailles, and  his  wife  received  as  Princess  of  Nassau.  "  This 
couple,"  says  the  Duke  de  Levis,  "were  well  matched.  The 
princess  was  a  tall,  thin  woman,  who  had  some  remains  of 
beauty.  Without  being  perfectly  straight,  she  showed  some 
elegance  in  her  figure ;  her  manners  were  noble  and  polished ; 
but  she  had  more  imagination  than  judgment.  Her  thoughts 
were  unconnected ;  and,  like  the  majority  of  Polish  women, 
her  heart  was  better  than  her  head."  This  princess,  in  fact, 
threw  money  away,  as  we  have  said,  with  the  same  facility  as 
her  husband.  Like  her  husband,  she  adored  Beaumarchais, 
and,  like  her  husband,  she  made  too  free  a  use  of  his  cash-box. 
"I  can  not  conceive,"  writes  the  author  of  "The  Barber  of 
Seville"  to  the  august  couple — doubtless  his  patience  had  been 
almost  worn  out  that  day — "  I  can  not  conceive  how  two  per- 


THE    PETNCESS   DE   NASSAU-SIEGEN.  371 

sons  SO  witty  as  yourself  and  the  princess  can  continue  to  com- 
bine the  most  lamentable  distress  and  the  most  reckless  prod- 
igality." The  distress,  in  fact,  sometimes  goes  very  far :  out 
of  two  hundred  letters  from  the  princess,  there  are  certainly  a 
hundred  scrawled  in  an  almost  illegible  handwriting,  the  ob- 
ject of  all  of  which  is  to  make  an  appeal  to  the  purse  of  fiiend 
Bomnarchais ;  the  princess,  by  the  way,  could  never  succeed 
in  WTiting  the  name  of  her  friend  correctly.  The  following 
are  some  specimens  of  these  letters  from  a  princess : 

"  It  is  a  long  time  since  I  have  seen  you,  my  dear  Bonmarchais, 
and  you  are  about  to  read  the  proof  of  it :  it  is  that  I  am  again  with- 
out a  sou.  Send  me  some  louis  by  the  bearer,  my  friend,  if  you  wish 
me  to  dine  to-morrow." 

Another  one : 

"  My  dear  Bonmarchais,  I  am  in  despair ;  but  I  must  positively 
go  to-morrow  on  business  to  Versailles,  and  I  have  not  the  smallest 
crown.     Send  me,  if  you  can,  some  louis." 

Variation  on  the  same  theme : 

"  My  dear  Bonmarchais,  here  is  the  breakfast  sent  me  to-day  by 
my  maitre  d'hote!;  see  whether  it  is  easy  to  digest.*  M.  de  Nas- 
sau went  to  him,  and  asked  him  for  his  account.  We  must  manage 
to  talk  over  it,  and  to  prolong  the  discussion  imtil  we  are  able  to  pay 
him.  In  the  mean  while,  my  friend,  send  me  what  you  can.  Adieu ; 
pardon  me  if  I  torment  you  almost  as  much  as  I  am  tormented." 

Friend  Bonmarchais  scolds,  preaches  economy,  and  always 
ends  by  sacrificing  himself  with  sufficiently  good  grace. 

The  prince,  on  his  side,  offers  rather  amusing  points  of  orig- 
inality, such,  for  instance,  as  setting  out  for  the  wars,  and 
leaving  his  wife  to  deal  with  his  numerous  and  insupportable 
creditors.  If  the  princess  takes  it  into  her  head  to  write  to 
him  about  his  affairs,  just  as  he  is  going  up  to  the  assault  of 
Gibraltar,  he  himself  addresses  to  Beaumarchais  the  follow- 
ing lines : 

"  My  dear  Beaumarchais,  it  is  agreeable  enough,  when  one  has  a 
regiment  of  cavalry  and  a  corps  of  infantry  in  France,  to  come  to 
Spain  and  command  one  of  the  floating  batteries  which  are  to  open 

*  It  was  doubtless  some  letter  from  the  princess's  maitre  cThotel,  re- 
fusing to  support  her  any  longer  at  his  expense. 


372  BEAUMARCHAIS   AND   HIS  TIMES. 

the  gate  of  Gibraltar;*  but  tell  Madame  de  Nassau,  I  beg  of  you, 
that  it  is  ridiculous  to  consult  me  as  she  does  about  all  my  affairs.  I 
have  given  her  a  very  general  procuration,  because  I  leave  every 
thing  to  her.  If  she  requires  advice  she  has  only  to  ask  you :  it  will 
be  more  valuable  than  mine.  Mind  you  tell  her  that  I  shall  not  send 
any  answer  in  future  to  those  parts  of  her  letters  which  speak  of  busi- 
ness affairs.  Adieu,  my  dear  Beaumarchais.  Believe  me,  no  one  is 
more  attached  to  you  than  myself.  Nassau. 

"  July  25,  1783." 

It  was,  indeed,  rather  hard  for  a  hero  to  be  pursued  by 
stamped  paper  beneath  the  very  fire  of  the  enemy ;  but,  on 
the  other  side,  the  poor  princess  did  not  know  where  to  turn 
her  head.  The  prince  had  estates  in  Flanders,  which  he  of- 
fered for  sale :  unfortunately,  there  were  lawsuits  which  pre- 
vented these  lands  being  sold.  The  princess  had  also  property 
in  Poland,  which  she  sold,  and  which  enabled  her  to  pay  a 
portion  of  her  husband's  debts ;  but  the  gulf  was  frightful  and 
difficult  to  fill  up.  She  exclaimed  loudly,  and  referred  all 
these  annoyances  to  friend  JBonmarchais,  in  whose  papers  we 
thus  find  the  most  varied  types  of  the  prince's  creditor  under 
the  ancient  regime,  from  the  most  civil  and  complaisant,  true 
personifications  of  M.  Dimanche,  to  the  most  overbearing,  who 
talked  philosophy,  and  would  serve  execution  on  a  hero  as  if 
he  were  a  simple  mortal. 

In  the  mean  while  the  prince  was  covering  himself  with 
glory  at  the  siege  of  Gibraltar.  The  King  of  Spain  granted 
him  the  rank  of  grandee ;  but  it  appeared  that  this  honor  ne- 
cessitated the  spending  of  money:  the  prince,  as  usual,  had 
none ;  and  also,  as  usual,  the  princess,  who  had  no  more,  ap- 
plied for  some  to  Beaumarchais.  The  latter,  who  had  al- 
ready furnished  the  sums  necessary  for  the  warrior's  equip- 
ment, caused  himself  to  be  pressed  a  little.  However,  he  was 
magnanimous. 

"  Although  I  am  horribly  pushed,"  he  writes  to  the  princess,  "  I 
am  going  to  transmit  to  him  at  Madrid  a  thousand  crowns  more  from 
the  bottom  of  my  purse,  and  you  can  write  to  him  by  to-morrow's 
post  that  they  are  at  his  orders  with  the  same  banker  at  Madrid 
who  supplied  him  with  the  former  funds.     I  can  not  suffer  that, 

*  This  attack  is  known  to  have  failed ;  but  it  was  condacted  in  part 
by  the  Prince  of  Nassau,  with  rare  intrepidity. 


THE    HERO   IN   DrFFICtJLTlES.  373 

while  he  is  covering  himself  with  glory,  and  endeavoring  to  repair 
his  position,  the  embarrassments  of  ordinary  life  should  be  a  most 
melancholy  obstacle  to  him." 

The  princess,  who  loved  her  husband  passionately,  was 
profuse  in  her  thanks. 

"  What  shall  I  say  to  you,  my  dear  friend  V  she  writes  to  Beau- 
marchais ;  "  how  am  I  to  express  to  you  all  my  gratitude,  and  on 
what  occasion  could  I  feel  more,  than  when  you  come  forward  to  as- 
sist all  I  have  dearest  to  me  in  the  world  ?  I  send  him  your  letter ; 
I  need  not  make  him  feel  all  he  owes  to  you ;  he  has  a  heart  hke 
mine,  and  knows  you  as  well  as  myself." 

The  author  of  "The  Marriage  of  Figaro,"  who  has  the  in- 
ventive faculty,  and  who  would  bo  the  more  delighted  to  see 
the  prince  pay  his  creditors  from  the  fact  that  his  highness 
owes  him  a  great  deal  of  money,  points  out  to  his  illustrious 
friend  an  ingenious  means  of  profiting  by  the  admiration  felt 
by  the  King  of  Spain  for  his  brilliant  courage.  The  prince, 
who  has  already  been  round  the  world,  is  to  tell  his  majesty 
that  he  wishes  to  perform  the  voyage  again,  and  is  to  ask  him 
as  an  only  favor  for  free  entry  for  two  vessels  and  their  car- 
goes to  all  the  ports  of  the  Spanish  colonies.  This  permission 
having  been  obtained,  the  prince  is  to  have  recourse  to  the 
King  of  France,  and  to  beg  him  to  lend  him  two  vessels  to 
sail  round  the  world  in  a  second  time,  and  to  manage  by  this 
rather  out-of-the-way  course  to  pay  his  debts.  These  two  fa- 
vors having  been  obtained,  Beaumarchais  is  to  exert  himself 
to  find  a  company  of  merchants  who  will  undertake  to  supply 
the  two  vessels  with  merchandise,  and  to  advance  to  the  prince 
500,000  francs.  Nassau  adopted  this  skillful  combination 
with  enthusiasm.  The  King  of  Spain  granted  the  favor  re- 
quested. It  only  remained  to  obtain  the  two  vessels  from  the 
King  of  France.  With  this  view  the  prince  addressed  to 
Louis  XVI.  a  long  memorial  on  the  state  of  his  afiairs ;  he 
solicited  a  decree  of  protection  from  his  creditors,  set  forth  the 
plan  which  was  to  enable  him  to  pay  his  debts,  and  in  favor 
of  his  military  services  requested  the  loan  of  two  vessels. 
The  most  curious  thing  in  this  Memorial,  after  the  combina- 
tion for  rescuing  a  hero  from  his  creditors  without  costing  any 
thing  to  the  state,  is  that,  in  terminating  his  petition,  the 


374  BKAUMARCHAIS    AND    HIS   TIMES. 

Prince  of  Nassau  invokes  the  testimony  and  support  of  Beau- 
marchais,  "  who  is  willing,"  he  says,  "  in  consequence  of  his 
attachment  for  me,  to  give  all  his  attention  to  the  entire  set- 
tlement of  my  debts."  And  Beaumarchais  supports  the  prince's 
petition  to  Louis  XVT.  in  the  following  note : 

"  If  the  testimony  of  a  man  of  honor  can  give  some  weight  to  the 
facts  set  forth  in  this  Memorial,  I  attest  that  since  the  marriage  of 
the  Prince  of  Nassau-Siegen,  through  the  greatest  sacrifices  on  the 
part  of  the  princess  his  wife,  both  of  her  lands  and  of  her  diamonds 
and  other  property,  the  prince  has  paid  nearly  one  hundred  thousand 
crowns  of  his  debts. 

"  I  certify  that  all  the  money  granted  by  his  majesty  for  paying  the 
debts  of  the  prince,  in  connection  with  his  campaign  of  Jersey,  which 
money  passed  through  my  hands  on  the  invitation  of  the  Count  de 
Maurepas  and  M.  de  Sartines,  was  entirely  applied  to  paying  the 
creditors  who  had  furnished  supplies  for  this  campaign,  without  a 
crovvTi  having  been  applied  to  the  personal  use  of  the  prince.* 

"  I  certify  that  there  is  still  due  on  this  campaign,  to  different  cred- 
itors, the  sum  of  280,000  francs,  for  the  payment  of  which  the  tran- 
quillity of  the  prince,  and  very  often  my  own,  have  been  disturbed. 

"  Caron  de  Beaumarchais. 

"May  10, 1783." 

The  prince's  petition  had  at  first  been  received  by  the  new 
minister  of  marine,  M.  de  Castries,  who  promised  the  two  ves- 
sels ;  but  the  prince  having  had  a  quarrel  with  the  minister, 
the  affair  miscarried.  Nassau,  always  avoiding  his  creditors, 
started  for  Poland,  where  he  distinguished  himself  in  the  serv- 
ice of  King  Stanislaus  Augustus,  arguing  with  heavy  sabre- 
cuts  in  the  Diets  against  the  Czartorisky  party.  The  prince 
afterward  went  into  the  service  of  Catharine,  beat  the  Turks  and 
Swedes,  and  while  Europe  was  resounding  with  the  fame  of  his 
name,  kept  up  with  Beaumarchais  a  correspondence,  in  which 
the  latter  recalled  from  time  to  time  to  his  glorious  friend, 
"  placed,"  as  he  says,  *'  at  the  head  of  the  warriors  of  Europe," 
the  necessities  of  actual  life,  and  reminded  him  that  it  would 
not  be  amiss  "  to  let  his  creditors  see  at  least  a  few  crowns." 

"  My  prince,"  he  writes  to  him,  "  your  horses,  which  were  seized 
in  the  possession  of  the  Duke  de  Lauzun,  are  not  sold,  and  are  eat- 

*  It  has  been  seen  above  that  this  assertion  was  not  perhaps  rigorous- 
ly exact ;  but  it  has  also  been  seen  that  Beaumarchais  had  done  all  that 
was  possible  for  it  to  be  so. 


THE  PRINCE  AT  ST.  PETERSBUEG.  375 

ing  themselves  up.  Nor  has  the  money  for  the  sale  of  VDlers  come 
in.  I  do  not  send  you  all  your  arms,  which  the  unhappy  armorer 
Toupriand  left  with  me  when  I  advanced  the  money  for  taking  them 
out  of  the  Mont  de  Piete,  because  this  armorer  has  placed  an  oppo- 
sition in  my  hands,  which  can  not  be  raised  until  all  his  accounts 
with  you  have  been  liquidated.  You  asked  me  for  a  good  surgeon, 
as  the  trade  you  pursue  renders  such  a  man  indispensable  to  you.  I 
send  you  this  useful  surgeon  at  the  same  time  as  your  useless  valets. 
....  I  send  you  back  your  diamonds,  of  which  I  have  not  made 
use,  as  there  is  too  much  difference  between  the  value  the  jewelers, 
the  second-hand  dealers,  and  the  Jews  assign  to  them  and  that  at- 
tributed to  tliem  by  yourself.  ....  1  was  unable  to  pay  the  bill  of 
exchange  which  the  princess  drew  on  me  from  Warsaw,  because  I 

had  no  more  money  at  liberty  after  all  1  had  advanced  for  you 

However,  you  have  your  military  successes,  which  are  consoling  to 
my  friendship.  A  great  man  in  petticoats  who  governs  Russia — this 
hero's  head  on  a  handsome  woman's  body,*  has  not  failed  to  seize 
the  opportunity  of  making  you  contribute  to  the  triumph  of  her  arms. 
I  congratulate  you  again  on  her  august  good-will  toward  you.  I  have 
added  up  aU  the  corps-d'armee  which  you  are  going  to  join.  They 
come  to  470,000  men,  according  to  your  letter.  With  such  forces 
the  universe  might  be  taken.  Like  a  preux  chevalier,  you  have  her 
portrait ;  you  will  cry  to  her  from  afar, '  Lady  of  my  thoughts,  I  am 
going  to  fight  for  you.'  Fly,  then,  to  Constantinople  ;  but,  above  all, 
do  not  get  killed.  This  is  all  I  ask  of  you,  and  the  future  is  your 
own.     Adieu,  my  prince. 

"  I  am,  with  inviolable  attachment,  &c., 

"  Caron  de  Beaumarchais." 

The  reader  will  comprehend  the  vivacity  of  this  exclama- 
tion— do  not  get  killed  !  which  is  repeated  in  several  of  Beau- 
marchais' letters  to  the  Prince  of  Nassau,  when  he  knows  that 
his  warrior,  who  was  celebrated  for  his  rashness,  was  at  this 
moment  both  the  friend  of  the  author  of  "  The  Marriage  of 
Figaro,"  and  his  debtor  to  the  amount  of  125,000  francs. 
Beaumarchais,  for  the  rest,  shows  himself  a  very  obliging 
creditor;  for  whether  he  considers  that  too  much  pressing 
would  not  in  any  way  advance  him,  or  whether  it  be  a  re- 
sult of  his  friendship,  I  find  him  writing  as  follows  to  the 

*  These  lines,  written  in  1786,  are  somewhat  hj'perbolical,  consider- 
ing that,  at  this  epoch,  Catharine  was  fifty-seven  years  old.  Her  rather 
diminutive  figure  had  been  invaded  by  a  sufficiently  ungraceful  embon- 
point ;  but  Beaiunarchais  saw  the  empress  from  a  distance. 


376  BEAUMAKCHAIS    AND    HIS    TIMES. 

Prince  of  Nassau  at  St.  Petersburgh,  under  date  April  25, 
1791: 

"As  the  dearness  of  the  exchange,  which  you  mention  to  me,  my 
prince,  in  your  last  letter,  as  a  reason  for  my  consenting  that  you 
should  postpone  the  payment  of  my  claim,  has  not  prevented  you 
from  paying  persons  who  had  obliged  you  with  a  zeal  which  was 
much  less  lively  and  less  disinterested  than  mine,  it  would  appear  to 
me  to  be  the  effect  of  some  displeasure  of  which  I  am  ignorant,  if 
I  were  not  aware  that  I  am  the  man  on  whose  easy  disposition  you 
have  always  reckoned  the  most.  You  have  too  much  honor  for  me 
to  feel  at  all  anxious ;  you  will  pay  me  when  you  think  you  ought, 
and  are  able  to  do  so  without  interfering  with  your  comfort.  The 
atmosphere  of  liberty  has  not  destroyed  my  sensibility.  I  am  like 
Robin,  '  toujours  le  meme^  and  I  should  like  to  love  you  with  the 
disinterestedness  of  a  sylph. 

"  Receive  the  congratulations  of  the  Cultivator 

"  Beaumabchais." 

After  the  death  of  Beaumarchais,  the  cashier  Gudin  states 
that  the  claim  of  his  patron  on  the  Prince  of  Nassau,  having 
been  reduced  no  doubt  by  installments,  amounted  to  the  sum 
of  79,858  francs.  Was  this  debt  paid  by  the  prince,  who  sur- 
vived Beaumarchais  a  sufficiently  long  time,  or  must  this  Pal- 
adin of  the  Middle  Ages  be  ranked  among  the  insolvent  debtors  ? 
This  last  hypothesis  appears  to  me  the  most  probable.  How- 
ever this  may  have  been,  from  vv^hat  precedes,  the  reader  will 
be  better  able  to  catch  the  true  physiognomy  of  Beaumarchais' 
existence  at  the  period  of"  The  Marriage  of  Figaro,"  and  will 
understand  what  a  variety  of  resources  he  could,  when  neces- 
sary, employ  in  order  to  get  a  piece  played,  in  spite  of  Louis 
XVI,,  the  keeper  of  the  seals,  and  M.  Suard. 


"the   MARKIAGE    of    FIGARO."  377 


CHAPTER  XXni. 

*'  The  Marriage  of  Figaro." — First  Representation. — Geoffrey  and  the 
Comedy. — Distribution  of  the  Parts. — The  Benevolent  Maternal  In- 
stitution.— The  Tiger  and  the  Flea. — Beaumarchais  in  St.  Lazare. — 
Quarrel  with  Mirabeau. 

"  The  Marriage  of  Figaro,"  which  was  not  to  be  played  for 
the  first  time  until  the  27th  of  April,  1784,  was  completed 
by  the  author,  and  received  at  the  Theatre-FranQais  toward 
the  close  of  1781.  If  we  believe  an  unpublished  letter  of 
Beaumarchais',  stating  to  the  minister  of  the  king's  household, 
M.  do  Breteuil,  the  vicissitudes  which  his  piece  experienced 
before  reaching  the  point  of  representation,  the  earlier  read- 
ings of  it  must  have  taken  place  without  the  author's  knowl- 
edge. 

At  the  commencement  of  1782,  the  question  stands  thus: 
the  king  has  read  the  manuscript ;  declares  the  piece  detestable 
and  un-actable  ;  many  persons  about  the  court  probably  begin 
by  joining  in  chorus ;  and  Beaumarchais  undertakes  to  con- 
tend against  what  he  calls  the  "  proscription  of  the  court" 
(being  unwilling  to  specify  more  precisely,  because  he  already 
has  some  warm  partisans  at  the  court)  by  exciting  the  curiosi- 
ty of  the  town  with  readings  skillfully  managed.  It  soon  be- 
came a  question  who  could  obtain  the  favor  of  hearing  him, 
whether  at  his  own  house  or  in  the  most  brilliant  saloons, 
giving  these  readings  of  his  piece,  which,  we  are  assured,  he 
executed  with  remarkable  talent.  "  Every  day,"  writes  Mad- 
ame Campan,  "persons  were  heard  to  say,  'I  was  present, 
or  I  shall  be  present,  at  a  reading  of  Beaumarchais'  piece." " 

In  June,  1783,  Beaumarchais,  who,  it  must  not  be  forgot- 
ten, conducted  twenty  other  affairs  at  the  same  time  with  this, 
seemed  at  one  moment  on  the  point  of  obtaining  a  victory  over 
the  king  and  the  keeper  of  the  seals,  and  of  seeing  his  piece 
played  at  the  theatre  of  the  court  itself  By  the  influence  of 
I  know  not  whom,  the  actors  suddenly  received  orders  to  learn 
the  piece  "  for  the  service  of  Versailles."     It  was  subsequent- 


378  BEAUMAKCHAIS  AND  HIS    TIMES. 

ly  decided  that  it  should  be  acted  in  Paris,  in  the  theatre  of 
the  hotel  of  the  Menus-Plaisirs.  Tickets  were  distributed  to 
all  the  court ;  the  carriages  already  thronged  about  the  en- 
trance of  the  theatre;  when,  at  the  very  moment  the  per- 
formance was  about  to  commence,  an  express  order  arrived 
from  the  king  forbidding  the  performance  of  the  piece  in  any 
theatre  or  in  any  place  whatsoever !  "  This  prohibition  by 
the  king"  says  Madame  Campan,  "  seemed  an  attack  upon 
the  public  liberty.  So  many  disappointed  hopes  excited  dis- 
satisfaction to  such  a  point,  that  the  words  '  oppression'  and 
'tyranny'  were  never  pronounced  with  more  passion  and  ve- 
hemence than  then,  in  the  days  which  preceded  the  downfall 
of  the  throne." 

"VYhy  had  the  king  determined  to  prohibit  thus,  at  the  last 
moment,  a  representation  of  which  he  could  not  have  been 
ignorant,  as  it  had  been  prepared  by  the  very  persons  who 
surrounded  him?  All  that  we  find  on  this  subject  among 
Beaumarchais'  papers  is  limited  to  the  following  passage  in 
the  unpublished  letter  to  M.  de  Breteuil:  "I  really  do  not 
know  what  court  intriguers  solicited  and  obtained  the  express 
prohibition  of  the  king  against  acting  the  piece  at  the  Menus- 
Plaisirs  ;  or  rather  I  think  it  unnecessary  to  repeat  it  to  him, 
who  knows  much  better  than  I.  I  again  patiently  replace 
the  piece  in  my  portfolio,  waiting  until  another  event  shall 
draw  it  forth."  In  fact,  another  very  soon  did  present  iteelf ; 
and  this  comedy,  which  we  have  just  seen  the  king  forbid  to 
be  represented,  was  played  with  his  perniissioti  before  the  whole 
court,  and  the  Count  d'Artois,  at  the  country  house  of  the 
Count  de  Vaudreuil. 

A  few  months  afterward  Beaumarchais  learned  in  England 
that  the  piece  which  the  king  had  prohibited  was  to  be  acted 
before  the  court,  and  that  they  were  only  waiting  for  his  per- 
mission. He  returned  immediately  to  Paris,  and  this  time, 
profiting  by  the  circumstances,  made  his  own  conditions.  It 
was  not  exactly  his  object  to  amuse  the  court  in  secret,  but  to 
appear  before  the  public  and  make  them  laugh  at  the  court, 
which  was  a  very  different  thing ;  provided,  however,  that  one 
led  to  the  other,  Beaumarchais  would  be  delighted  to  please 
AIM.  de  Vaudreuil  and  De  Fronsac     Only,  before  consenting 


THE   BEPEESENTATION    AT    GENNEVILLIERS.  379 

to  the  performance  at  Gennevilliers,  he  innocently  exacted  that 
the  favor  of  a  new  examination  should  be  granted  him  ;  a  sin- 
gular request  to  begin  with.  "  But,"  he  was  told,  "  your  piece 
has  already  been  read  by  the  censor  and  approved  of,  and  we 
have  the  king's  permission."  "Never  mind,  I  must  have  a 
fresh  examination."  "I  was  found  rather  particular  in  my 
turn,"  he  wrote  to  M.  de  Breteuil,  "  and  they  said  I  made 
diflBculties  merely  because  I  was  sought  after;  but  as  I  was 
determined  to  settle  public  opinion  by  this  new  examination, 
I  insisted  on  its  being  granted,  and  the  severe  historian,  M. 
Gaillard,  of  the  French  Academy,  was  named  censor  by  the 
magistrate  of  police." 

Some  days  afterward  the  entire  court  had  the  pleasure  of 
attending  the  performance  of  a  piece  which  the  king  had  de- 
clared to  be  detestable  and  un-actable.  It  is  even  said  that 
the  queen  would  have  appeared  at  Gennevilliers  had  she  not 
been  prevented  by  an  indisposition.  It  is  very  probable,  as 
Madame  Lebrun  relates,  that  the  ladies  complained  of  the  heat, 
and  that  Beaumarchais  broke  the  panes  of  glass  with  his  cane, 
and  that  this  gave  rise  to  the  neat  mot,  "  qu'il  avait  doublement 
casse  les  vttres ;"  but  when  Madame  Lebrun  describes  him  as 
intoxicated  with  joy,  rushing  about  on  all  sides  like  a  man  out 
of  his  senses,  she  looks  at  him  through  the  prism  of  the  time 
that  has  gone  by  and  of  her  own  imagination,  never  doubt- 
ing that  instead  of  cruelly  harassing  M.  de  Vaudreuil  as  she 
believed,  Beaumarchais  had  been  contented  to  let  him  come 
round  to  him,  to  allow  himself  to  be  solicited  and  flattered  by 
him,  and  to  make  use  quietly  of  his  influence. 

The  very  day  after  the  performance  at  Gennevilliers,  the 
author  of  "  The  Marriage  of  Figaro,"  behaving  as  if  his  cause 
was  gained,  had  formally  applied  to  the  lieutenant  of  police 
for  permission  to  have  his  comedy  brought  out.  This  officer 
had  replied  that  the  king's  prohibition,  given  the  day  of  the 
performance  at  the  Menus-Plaisirs,  was  still  in  force,  and  that 
he  must  refer  the  matter  to  his  majesty.  "  Two  months  after- 
ward," writes  Beaumarchais,  in  his  unpublished  letter  to  M. 
de  Breteuil,  "  the  lieutenant  of  police  told  me  the  king  had 
deigned  to  reply  that  fie  was  told  there  were  still  some-  things 
which  ought  not  to  remain  in  the  work ;  that  one  or  two  new 


380  BEAUMAECHAIS  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

censors  must  be  named,  and  that  the  author  would  be  able  to 
make  the  corrections  more  easily,  as  the  piece  was  long.  Mon- 
sieur Lenoir  had  the  kindness  to  add  that  he  should  look  upon 
this  letter  of  the  king's  as  countermanding  the  prohibition  to 
play  the  piece  immediately  after  its  examination  by  the  new 
censors." 

The  piece  was  given  to  the  third  censor,  who  made  some 
modifications  and  gave  his  approval.  The  king  required  a 
fourth,  who  made  very  few  corrections  and  gave  his  approval. 
He  required  a  fifth.  This  one,  Bret,  gave  his  approval  with- 
out making  any  corrections. 

What  could  be  done  against  a  man  who  successively  changed 
five  censors  into  five  advocates ;  who  had  on  his  side  INI.  de 
Vaudreuil,  M.  de  Fronsac,  and  the  Prince  de  Nassau  (then  in 
Paris,  and  fighting  boldly  for  his  friend);  all  the  youth  of 
both  sexes  belonging  to  the  court,  actors  and  actresses,  who, 
relying  on  a  brilliant  and  fertile  success,  complained  loudly 
of  the  injustice  committed  toward  their  theatre,  and  the  whole 
of  the  public  impatient,  and  loudly  demanding  to  have  their 
curiosity  satisfied?  What  could  the  king,  assisted  by  the 
keeper  of  the  seals,  and  Suard,  do  against  this  explosion? 
They  were  obliged  to  grant  to  the  world  what  had  been  grant- 
ed to  the  courtiers  of  Gennevilliers.  We  are  assured  that,  in 
order  to  remove  the  king's  scruples  completely,  some  clever 
friends  or  awkward  enemies  of  Beaumarchais'  continually  re- 
peated to  him  that  the  piece  would  not  meet  with  success; 
and,  as  the  king  wished  this  might  be  the  case  with  all  his 
heart,  he  yielded  to  the  feverish  curiosity  of  the  public,  in 
hopes  its  expectations  would  be  deceived. 

In  March,  1784,  Beaumarchais  obtained  the  long-asked-for 
permission,  and  hastened  to  communicate  the  news  to  the 
actor  Preville,  who  was  then  in  the  country,  in  the  following 
letter,  which  is  full  of  the  joy  and  pride  of  triumph : 

"Paris,  March  31,  17S4. 

"  We  have  both  made  a  mistake,  my  old  friend.  I  was  trembling 
lest  you  should  leave  the  theatre  at  Easter,  and  you  thought '  The 
Marriage  of  Figaro'  would  never  be  played.  But  one  must  never 
despair  of  keeping  an  actor  who  is  adored  by  the  public,  nor  of  see- 
ing a  courageous  author  conquer  when  he  believes  he  is  in  the  right, 
and  can  not  be  disheartened  by  the  most  disheartening  things.     My 


THE   FIRST   NIGHT.  381 

dear  old  friend,  I  have  the  consent  of  the  king,  that  of  the  minister,  and 
that  of  the  lieutenant  of  police  ;  I  now  only  want  yours  to  make  a  nice 
disturbance  when  we  commence.  Come,  my  dear  friend.  My  piece 
is  but  a  trifle,  but  to  see  it  on  the  stage  is  the  result  of  a  contest  of 
four  years.  This  is  what  makes  me  think  so  much  of  it.  What  a 
deal  of  harm  those  malicious  persons  have  done !  Two  years  ago 
my  friend  Preville  would  have  assured  the  success  of  my  five  acts  ; 
now,  the  charm  he  will  lend  to  an  inferior  character  will  cause  the 
greatest  regret  that  he  does  not  play  the  first.* 

"  I  am  advised  to  have  it  studied  and  rehearsed  quietly,  and  we 
have  agreed  to  do  so,  without  saying  any  thing.  Dazincourt  and  La- 
porte  have  undertaken  to  write  to  every  one,  desiring  them  to  keep 
it  secret,  so  that  our  good  luck  may  not  be  spoiled  once  more.  I 
greet,  honor,  and  love  you.  Beaumarchais." 

The  description  of  the  fii'St  performance  of  "The  Marriage 
of  Figaro"  is  in  every  history  of  the  period.  It  is  one  of  the 
best  known  souvenirs  of  the  eighteenth  century.  All  Paris 
rushed,  even  in  the  morning,  to  the  doors  of  the  Theatre- 
Frangaise ;  ladies  of  the  highest  rank  dined  in  the  actresses' 
rooms  in  order  to  be  sure  of  places ;  " cordons  bleus"  says 
Bachaumont,  "  mixed  up  in  the  crowd,  and  elbowing  with 
Savoyards ;  the  guard  dispersed,  the  doors  knocked  in,  the 
iron  gates  broken  by  the  efforts  of  the  assailants."  "Three 
persons  suffocated,"  says  La  Harpe ;  "one  more,"  he  adds 
maliciously,  "  than  for  Scudery."  On  the  stage,  after  the  cur- 
tain was  raised,  was  seen  perhaps  the  most  splendid  assem- 
blage of  talent  which  was  ever  contained  within  the  walls  of 
the  Theatre-FranQaise,  all  employed  in  promoting  the  success 
of  a  comedy  which  sparkled  with  wit,  and  carried  the  audience 
along  by  its  dramatic  movement  and  audacity,  which,  if  it 
shocked  or  startled  some  of  the  private  boxes,  enchanted,  ex- 
cited, and  inflamed  an  electrified  pit. 

Such  is  the  picture  which  is  to  be  found  every  where,  and 
■which,  therefore,  it  is  not  necessary  for  us  to  dwell  upon. 
We  will  only  add  one  thing  more,  which  will  perhaps  com- 
plete it,  namely,  that  Beaumarchais  was  in  all  this  tumult,  in 

*  In  order  to  understand  this,  it  must  be  known  that  Preville,  who  at 
first  was  to  have  played  the  part  of  Figaro,  was  now  too  old  and  worn 
out  for  such  an  important  character,  and  had  given  it  up  to  Dazincourt; 
but,  as  he  wished  to  contribute  to  the  success  of  the  piece,  he  consented 
to  accept  the  part  of  Brid'oison. 


382  BEAUMARCHAIS    AND    HIS   TIMES. 

a  loge  grillee*  between  two  abbes,  with  whom  he  had  been 
having  a  jovial  dinner,  and  whose  presence  had  seemed  indis- 
pensable to  him,  in  order  that  they  might  administer  to  him, 
he  said,  "des  secours  trcs-spirituels'^  in  case  of  death.  We 
think  this  detail  was  wanting  to  complete  the  description  of 
the  first  performance  of  "  The  Marriage  of  Figaro."t 

A  critic  who  was  rather  celebrated  at  the  beginning  of  this 
century,  and  who  has  left  a  few  good  pages,  unfortunately 
mixed  with  many  others  written  in  a  coarse  tone,  and  with  a 
great  dearth  of  ideas — Geoffroy — after  having  treated  Beau- 
marchais  to  a  broadside  of  insults,  summed  up  his  opinion  of 
"The  Marriage  of  Figaro"  in  the  following  manner  in  the 
year  1802  :  "  Now  that  there  are  no  more  princes  nor  power- 
ful nobles,  nor  a  Maupeou  Parliament ;  now,  when  we  criti- 
cise '  Figaro'  as  if  with  the  experience  of  ten  centuries,  it  is 
nothing  but  a  villainous  rhapsody — a  hash  up  of  equivoques, 
grotesque  conceits,  puns,  and  quibbles.  This  debauch  of  wit, 
this  wild  style,  still  excite  from  time  to  time  the  laugh  one 
gives  to  a  farce ;  but  after  laughing  at  them  we  despise  them." 

How  was  it  that  Geoffroy,  who  was  so  humble  in  presence 
of  political  success,  did  not  understand  that  literary  success, 
when  prolonged  and  sustained,  is  also  of  some  value  ?  and  that 
if  Beaumarchais'  merit  consisted  in  dazzling  and  deceiving 
people — which  even  then  is  not  a  talent  which  all  possess — it 
was  not  with  villainous  rhapsodies  alone  that  he  could  con- 

*  /.  c,  a  private  box  with  a  screen  of  lattice-work  in  front. — Trans. 

t  We  conclude  this  to  have  been  the  case  from  an  invitation  to  din- 
ner, addressed  by  Beaumarchais  to  the  Abbe  de  Calonne,  brother  of  the 
minister,  for  the  day  for  the  first  representation  of  "The  Marriage  of 
Figaro,"  and  which  terminates  thus  :  "  Come,  then,  come ;  my  Andalu- 
sian  barber  will  not  celebrate  his  marriage  without  your  official  pres- 
ence. Like  royal  personages,  he  will  put  out  placards  to  invite  one 
hundred  and  twenty  thousand  persons  to  his  wedding.  Will  it  be  a 
gay  one  ?    I  can  not  say.     I  conceived  this  child  in  joy,  and,  please 

Heaven,  I  may  be  delivered  of  it  without  pain But  hitherto  I 

have  not  been  fortunate  with  it.  I  shall  require  absolution  and  assist- 
ance of  a  very  spiritual  nature  (des  secours  tres  spirituels)  at  the  critical 
moment ;  I  expect  them  from  you  and  another  ecclesiastic  in  a  very 
dark  comer.  Venite,  abhati,  tnaledicemus  de  auclore ;  but,  above  all,  let 
ns  laugh  if  I  am  unfortunate,  I  only  consent  to  be  so  on  these  terms. 
I  greet,  honor,  and  love  you.  Beaumarcijais. 


SUCCESS   OF   THE   PIECE.  383 

tinue  to  dazzle  and  deceive  them  until  the  year  1802  ?  What 
would  he  say  if,  in  1855,  he  saw  people  persist  in  allowing 
themselves  to  be  dazzled  and  deceived  by  these  villainous  rhap- 
sodies, which,  when  well  played,  continue  to  attract  the  pub- 
lic, not  only  in  France,  but  every  where  ? 

The  comedy  of  Beaumarchais,  though  its  general  import- 
ance in  a  political  point  of  view  is  lost,  still  even  in  this  re- 
spect preserves  a  certain  reality,  while  to  well-informed  men 
it  remains  a  curious  monument  of  a  peculiar  state  of  affairs 
which  will  perhaps  never  reappear  in  France — that  of  a  gov- 
ernment with  abuses  enough  to  supply  materials  in  plenty  for 
a  satirical  comedy,  and  at  the  same  time  too  self-confident  or 
too  weak  to  prevent  an  audacious  and  obstinate  author  from 
putting  it  on  the  stage.  The  Aristophanic  character  of  "  The 
Marriage  of  Figaro,"  which  incontestably  contributes  to  its 
originality,  although  it  no  longer  presents  the  dangers  it  for- 
merly did,  does  not  fail  to  raise  many  and  often  unexpected 
adversaries.  Among  these  are  many  honest  citizens,  who 
would  certainly  be  furious  if  by  a  stroke  with  a  wand  some 
magician  one  fine  morning  restored  the  ancient  regime  to  them, 
with  its  colonels  of  seven  years  of  age,  its  IVlaupeou  Parlia- 
ment, its  lettres  de  cachet,  its  thousand  unjust  privileges,  and 
its  thousand  abuses. 

"  The  Marriage  of  Figaro"  had  been  represented  sixty-eight 
times  successively,  with  unparalleled  success.  The  first  time 
it  was  played  the  receipts  amounted  to  6511  livres  ;  the  sixty- 
eighth  time  they  were  5483  livres.  In  eight  months,  from 
April  27,  1784,  to  January  10,  1785,  the  piece  had  brought 
the  Comedie  Fran(;aise  (without  counting  the  fiftieth  repre- 
sentation, which  was,  at  Beaumarchais'  suggestion,  given  for 
the  benefit  of  the  poor)  the  gross  sum  of  346,197  livres,  from 
which,  after  aU  expenses  had  been  deducted,  a  clear  profit  of 
293,755  livres  was  left  for  the  actors,  minus  Beaumarchais' 
share  as  author,  which  was  valued  at  41,499  livres.  "We  see 
from  this  that  if  "  The  Marriage  of  Figaro"  was  open  to  crit- 
icism as  a  work  of  art,  it  was  of  undeniable  value  as  a  means 
of  obtaining  money.  It  is  true  that  the  piece  was  got  up 
with  the  greatest  care,  and  acted  to  perfection. 

All  the  principal  parts  were  intrusted  to  actors  of  the  first 


384  BEAUMARCHAIS   AND    HIS   TIMES. 

merit.  Mademoiselle  Sainval,  who  was  the  tragic  actress  then 
in  vogue,  at  the  urgent  request  of  Beaumarchais,  had  accept- 
ed the  part  of  Countess  Almaviva,  in  which  she  displayed  a 
talent  which  was  the  more  striking  from  being  unexpected. 
Mademoiselle  Contat  enchanted  the  public  in  the  character  of 
Susanna  by  her  grace,  the  refinement  of  her  acting,  and  the 
charms  of  her  appearance  and  voice.  A  very  young  and  very 
pretty  actress,  who  was  soon  after  carried  off  by  death  in  her 
eighteenth  year  —  Mademoiselle  Olivier,  whose  talent,  says 
a  contemporary,  was  as  naive  and  fresh  as  her  face — lent  her 
naivete  and  her  freshness  to  the  somewhat  warm  part  of  Cher- 
ubino.  Mole  acted  the  part  of  Count  Almaviva  with  the  el- 
egance and  dignity  which  distinguished  him.  Dazincourt  rep- 
resented Figaro  with  all  his  wit,  and  relieved  the  character 
from  any  appearance  of  vulgai-ity.  Old  Preville,  who  was 
not  less  successful  in  the  character  of  Brid'oison,  had  given  it 
up  after  a  few  days  to  Dugazon,  who  interpreted  it  with  more 
power  and  equal  intelligence.  Desessarts,  with  his  rich  hu- 
mor, gave  relief  to  the  character  of  Bartholo,  which  is  thrown 
somewhat  into  the  background.  The  secondary  parts  of  Basil 
and  Antonio  were  equally  well  played  by  Vanhove  and  Belle- 
mont;  finally,  through  a  singular  caprice,  a  somewhat  cele- 
brated tragedian,  Larive,  not  wishing  tragedy  to  be  represent- 
ed in  the  piece  by  Mademoiselle  Sainval  alone,  asked  for  the 
insignificant  little  part  of  Grippe-soleil. 

The  author  of  "  The  Marriage  of  Figaro"  devoted  aU  it  pro- 
duced to  works  of  charity. 

"  I  propose,"  said  he,  in  a  letter  to  the  "  Journal  de  Paris,"  August 
12,  1784,  "I  propose  to  form  a  benevolent  institution,  to  which  ev- 
ery woman  known  to  be  poor  may,  on  being  recommended  by  the  cu- 
rate of  her  parish,  come  with  her  child  in  her  arms,  and  say, '  I  am 
a  mother,  and  have  a  child  to  nurse ;  I  used  to  gain  twenty  sous  a 
day ;  my  child  costs  me  twelve.'  Twenty  sous  a  day  make  thirty 
francs  a  month :  we  might  give  this  woman  nine  francs  in  charity, 
which,  with  the  nine  francs  that  the  husband  would  no  longer  have  to 
pay  to  a  stranger,  would  leave  them  eighteen  francs  in  pocket.  The 
mother  will  not  have  much  good  will  if  she  can  not  gain  eight  sous 
per  day  while  suckling  her  child,  and  thus  she  gets  the  thirty  livres 
again. 

"  At  the  risk  of  again  being  looked  upon  as  a  vain  man,  I  will  de- 


THE    BENEVOLENT   MATERNAL   INSTITUTION.  385 

vote  all  my  '  Figaro'  to  this  purpose  ;  it  is  money  •which  belongs  to 
me,  which  I  have  gained  by  my  labor  in  spite  of  torrents  of  printed 
and  written  abuse.  Now,  when  the  actors  have  received  200,000 
francs,  my  nurses  will  have  28,000 ;  with  the  30,000  from  my  friends, 
I  shall  have  a  whole  regiment  of  children  fattening  upon  the  mater- 
nal milk.     All  this  compensates  for  a  great  many  insults." 

The  Comedie-Franfaise,  not  willing  to  be  surpassed  in  zeal 
by  Beaumarchais,  consented  to  devote  the  entire  receipts  of 
the  fiftieth  representation  to  the  benefit  of  the  institution  for 
poor  nursing  mothers. 

The  institution  for  the  benefit  of  poor  nursing  mothers  met 
with  obstacles,  which  were  probably  occasioned  by  the  enmity 
felt  toward  the  man  who  wished  to  found  it,  and  it  was  im- 
possible to  establish  it  in  Paris ;  but,  as  the  idea  was  a  good 
one,  it  was  not  abandoned.  The  Archbishop  of  Lyons,  M.  de 
Montazet,  adopted  it.  He  freely  accepted  the  assistance  and 
money  of  Beaumarchais  ;  and  the  Benevolent  Maternal  Insti- 
tution, which  still  exists,  I  believe,  in  Lyons,  had  its  origin  in 
"The  Marriage  of  Figaro."  Beaumarchais  was  one  of  its 
most  constant  supporters.  In  1790  he  sent  to  this  establish- 
ment a  farther  sum  of  GOOO  francs. 

While  Beaumarchais  was  thus  occupying  public  attention 
by  the  most  various  means,*  his  enemies,  headed  by  Suard, 
worried  him  incessantly  with  anonymous  articles  in  the  "Jour- 
nal de  Paris." 

At  first  the  author  of  "  The  Marriage  of  Figaro"  replied 
with  his  usual  gayety ;  at  last,  however,  tired  of  the  business, 
he  wrote,  March  6,  1785,  a  final  letter,  in  which  he  assured 
the  editors  of  the  "Journal  de  Paris"  that  he  should  not  an- 
swer the  anonymous  insults  again  ;  and  by  way  of  explaining, 
in  the  most  energetic  manner,  all  the  importance  he  attached 

*  He  was  accused  especially  of  inventing  out-of-the-way  stories  and 
circulating  them  in  connection  with  his  piece.  The  following  anecdote 
was  related  as  an  invention  of  this  kind:  A  young  man,  reduced  to  the 
last  extremity  of  misery,  wrote  to  Beaumarchais,  begging  the  favor  of 
being  allowed  to  see  "  The  Marriage  of  Figaro"  before  he  committed 
suicide.  Strange  as  it  may  appear,  the  fact  was  nevertheless  true.  The 
author  of  this  letter  was  a  young  writer  named  Feydel,  who  in  after 
years  attained  some  celebrity.  We  must  add  that  Beaumarchais  hast- 
ened to  visit  the  unhappy  young  man  in  his  garret  where  he  lived,  that 
he  procured  him  a  situation,  and  gave  him  all  the  aid  in  his  power. 

R 


386  BEAUMARCHAIS  AND   UIS   TIMES. 

to  them,  he  employed  this  highly-colored,  though  somewhat 
carelessly  expressed  antithesis:  "When  I  have  had  to  con- 
quer lions  and  tigers,"  said  he,  "in  order  to  get  a  comedy 
acted,  do  you  think  that  after  its  success  you  will  reduce  me 
to  the  level  of  a  Dutch  housemaid,  to  hunt  every  morning  the 
vile  insect  of  the  night  ?" 

As  Suard  was  personally  very  small,  he  might  have  taken 
the  last  term  of  this  not  very  delicate  antithesis  for  himself. 
Unfortunately  for  Beaumarchais,  who  thought  he  had  only 
Suard  to  deal  with,  the  Count  de  Provence,  although  very 
stout,  having,  it  appears,  taken  part  in  Suard's  attacks,  was 
much  offended  by  this  redoubtable  antithesis,  and  complained 
to  the  king,  his  brother,  of  Beaumarchais'  insolence.  How- 
ever, as  he  took  care  to  conceal  the  part  which  had  most 
offended  him,  and  as  he  was  very  ingenious,  he  easily  per- 
suaded his  brother  that  Beaumarchais'  crime  did  not  consist 
in  speaking  of  the  "  vile  insect  of  the  night,"  but  of  having 
written  the  words  "  lions  and  tigers,"  which,  according  to  him, 
evidently  meant  the  king  and  queen. 

To  accuse  any  one  of  having  dreamed  of  comparing  Louis 
XVI.  to  a  tiger,  or  even  to  a  lion,  was  almost  like  accusing 
him  of  having  attempted  to  carry  off  the  towers  of  Notre 
Dame  in  his  pocket.  Beaumarchais  had  only  introduced  the 
tigers  for  the  literary  advantage  of  his  antithesis,  and  in  order 
to  bring  out  the  "  vile  insect  of  the  night ;"  but  Louis  XVI. — 
the  best  of  men,  although  subject  to  fits  of  hastiness,  which 
were,  however,  generally  limited  to  an  abrupt  manner  of  speak- 
ing*— Louis  XVT.  was  already  irritated  against  Beaumarchais. 
The  immense  success  of  a  comedy  which  had  been  played  in 
some  sort  against  his  will,  a  success  which  made  him  uneasy 
as  a  king,  and  which  shocked  him  as  a  Christian,  rendered 
him  disposed  to  listen  to  the  most  improbable  accusations. 
The  present  one  made  him  quite  beside  himself.  Without 
leaving  the  card-table  at  which  he  was  seated,  he  wrote — if 
the  author  of '  Souvenirs  d'  un  Sexagenaire,'  M.  Arnault,  is  to 
be  believed — on  a  seven  of  spades,  in  pencil,  an  order  to  arrest 
Beaumarchais  immediately,  and,  adding  insult  to  injury,  which 
is  never  excusable  in  a  sovereign,  gave  orders  not  to  conduct 
him  to  an  ordinary  prison,  but  to  one  which  covered  at  the 


BEA.UMABCHAIS   IN   ST.  LAZAKE.  387 

same  time  with  ridicule  and  shame  a  man  who  was  fifty-three 
years  of  age,  that  is  to  say,  St.  Lazare,  wher«  juvenile  offenders 
were  confined. 

To  treat  like  a  young  vagabond  a  man  of  Beaumarchais' 
age  and  celebrity,  a  man  to  whom  important  missions  had 
been  confided,  who  had  been  initiated  into  state  society,  who 
had  been  charged  with  most  important  operations,  who  was 
known  to  be  at  the  head  of  a  large  house  of  business,  and 
whose  talents  exercised  a  powerful  influence  on  the  public, 
was  more  than  an  injustice — it  was  one  of  the  gravest  faults; 
for  it  was  making  manifest  to  all  eyes  the  pernicious  influence 
which  could  be  exercised  at  times  by  power  uncontrolled  by 
laws,  even  on  the  most  good-natured  of  pinnces.  This  arbi- 
trary act  is,  however,  the  only  one  with  which  Louis  XVI. 
personally  can  be  reproached. 

Such  is  the  frivoUty  of  the  Parisian  public,  that  when  it  was 
known,  on  the  morning  of  March  9,  1785,  that  the  author  of 
"  The  Marriage  of  Figaro,"  in  the  midst  of  his  triumph,  had 
been  imprisoned  the  previous  evening,  without  any  one  know- 
ing why,  in  company  with  the  young  thieves  of  St.  Lazare,  the 
fiict  seemed  at  first  very  amusing,  and  the  laughter  occasioned 
by  it  was  almost  universal.  The  next  day  people  began  to 
inquire  the  reason  of  this  strange  incarceration ;  and  as  the 
government  could  give  none,  and  knew  of  none  (for  it  was 
very  awkward  to  confess  that  Beaumarchais  was  imprisoned 
because  they  were  inclined  to  believe  that  he  had  intended  to 
compare  Louis  XVI.  to  a  tiger),  the  public  became  unruly,  and 
began  to  murmur.  The  following  day  the  murmurs  became 
loud.  "  Every  one,"  says  Arnault,  "  felt  in  danger,  not  only 
as  regarded  his  liberty,  but  also  as  regarded  his  personal  dig- 
nity." On  the  fourth  day  there  was  a  general  movement  of 
indignation,  particularly  among  the  young  men,  and  the  ex- 
citement was  so  great  that  Arnault,  although  then  in  the  serv- 
ice of  the  Count  de  Provence,  informs  us  that  he  could  not 
resist  ^v^iting  one  ofthe  most  audacious  odes  against  this  act 
of  tyranny.*     At  last,  on  the  fifth  day,  Beaumarchais  was 

*  A  sheet  of  "Nonvelles  &  la  main,"  which  lies  before  me,  after  giving 
a  detailed  account  ofthe  arrest  and  imprisonment  of  Beaumarchais,  winds 
up  with  a  sentence  which  seems  to  be  the  expression  of  the  public  feel- 


388  BEAUMARCHAIS    AND    HIS   TIMES. 

forced,  almost  against  his  will,  to  leave  the  prison ;  for  in  his 
resentment  for  the  shameful  iniquity  of  which  he  was  a  victim, 
he  wished  to  remain  in  prison  until  his  crime  was  specified 
and  his  judges  appointed.  The  unpublished  Memorial  which 
he  addressed  from  St.  Lazare  to  the  king  is  curious,  as  exhibit- 
ing a  situation  equally  embarrassing  for  Louis  XVI.  and  for 
Beaumarchais.  The  lieutenant  of  police  had,  without  doubt, 
given  the  prisoner  some  idea  of  the  true  cause  of  the  king's 
anger;  but  how  was  the  subject  to  be  broached?  How  was 
he  to  excuse  himself  in  the  eyes  of  the  king  for  having  likened 
him  to  a  tiger?  "In  comparing,"  says  Beaumarchais,  "the 
great  obstacles  I  had  to  overcome  in  order  to  get  a  poor  com- 
edy played,  with  the  repeated  attacks  which  one  looks  down 
upon  after  a  success,  I  took  the  two  extremes  in  the  scale  of 
comparison,  and  in  the  same  manner  that  I  might  have  said, 
'  After  having  fought  with  giants,  am  I  to  march  against  pig- 
mies ;'  or  have  employed  any  other  illustration,  I  said 

But  if  any  one  should  persist  in  thinking  there  can  exist  any 
being  in  France  so  utterly  mad  as  to  wish  to  offend  the  king, 
in  a  letter  examined  by  the  censor  and  published  in  a  news- 
paper, have  I  as  yet  given  any  signs  of  such  a  madness,  that 
people  should  hazard  such  an  accusation  against  me  without 
prooff 

A  few  days  of  reflection,  doubtless,  made  the  king  under- 
stand that  he  could  not  decently  admit  the  intention  attrib- 
uted to  the  author  of  "  The  Marriage  of  Figaro"  to  him,  and 
yielding  to  those  feelings  of  justice  and  kindness  which  were 
so  natural  to  him,  after  having  in  a  manner  begged  Beaumar- 
chais to  leave  the  prison,  he  took  a  pleasure  in  doing  all  he 
could  to  compensate  him  in  every  way  for  his  shameful  deten- 
tion, which  had  lasted  five  days.  Grimm  states  that  nearly  all 
the  ministers  were  at  the  representation  of  "  Figaro,"  which 
took  place  on  Beaumarchais'  leaving  prison,  and  which  met 
with  a  most  brilliant  reception.  They  had  the  slight  annoy- 
ance of  hearing  the  following  phrase  in  the  famous  monologue 
applauded  most  energetically :  "  Not  being  able  to  degrade  in- 
tellect, they  avenge  themselves  by  persecuting  it."    M.  de  Ca- 

ing:  "People  are  inquiring," says  the  anonymous  wTiter,  "whether  any 
one  can  be  sure  of  sleeping  to-night  in  liis  own  bed." 


BEAU5IABCHAIS   RECEIVES   AN   INDEMNITY.  389 

lonne  wrote  to  Beaumarchais  to  say  that  the  king  considered 
he  had  justified  himself,  and  would  be  happy  to  take  every 
opportunity  of  testifying  his  good-will  toward  him.  Louis 
XVI.  did  so  soon  afterward,  in  a  most  noble  manner,  and  one 
most  worthy  of  a  sovereign  who  felt  he  had  been  in  the  -wrong. 
"The  Barber  of  Seville,"  says  Grimm,  "was  acted  in  the  lit- 
tle theatre  of  Trianon,  before  the  queen's  private  party,  and 
the  author  was  honored  by  an  invitation  to  be  present  at  the 
representation.  The  queen  herself  took  the  part  of  Rosina ; 
the  Count  of  Artois  that  of  Figaro ;  M.  de  Vaudreuil  that  of 
Count  Almaviva,  &c."  Certainly  no  more  delicate  flattering 
reparation  could  have  been  made  to  Beaumarchais  for  the  in- 
sult he  had  received. 

To  these  delicate  reparations  were  added  more  substantial 
proofs  of  the  king's  good-will.  Since  1779  he  had  been  try- 
ing to  obtain  from  the  government  an  indemnity  for  his  fleet 
of  merchant  vessels,  which  had  been  sacrificed  to  the  military 
operations  of  Admiral  d'Estaing.  He  had  received  in  succes- 
sion 905,000  francs  at  one  period,  and  at  another,  and  three 
months  before  the  firfet  representation  of  "  The  Marriage  of 
Figaro,"  570,625  li\Tes,  with  a  letter  from  M.  de  Calonne, 
announcing  that  his  further  demands  would  be  decided  upon 
by  a  committee  of  shipowners.  This  further  claim,  fixed  some 
time  after  Beaumarchais'  imprisonment  in  St.  Lazare  by  an 
order  of  the  king,  dated  February  12,  1786,  at  the  sum  of 
800,000  livres — which,  added  to  the  two  preceding  sums, 
formed  a  total  of  2,275,625  livres — Beaumarchais  received. 

Notwithstanding  all  the  reparation  which  the  king  made  to 
Beaumarchais,  this  public  act,  not  only  of  severity,  but  of  con- 
tempt, perfoi-med  in  a  moment  of  blind  anger,  had  a  lament- 
able effect  on  the  moral  position  of  the  author  of  "  The  Mar- 
riage of  Figaro"  in  the  eyes  of  the  public.  He  had  been  seen, 
for  the  first  time,  to  submit  to  an  insult,  and  compelled  to  re- 
main silent,  on  account  of  the  rank  of  the  oflfender ;  his  ene- 
mies were  encouraged  by  this  to  attack  him,  and  soon  his  star, 
which  was  beginning  to  fall,  brought  him  into  conflict  with  a 
man  who  was  not  less  bold,  and  who  was,  at  the  same  time, 
younger  and  more  redoubtable  than  himself. 

Two  clever  engineers,  the  brothers  Perier,  had  undertaken 


390  BEAUMAKCHAIS  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

to  distribute  the  water  of  the  Seine  through  every  quarter  of 
Paris,  in  imitation  of  what  had  long  been  the  system  in  Lon- 
don, by  establishing  on  the  heights  of  Chaillot  the  fire-engine 
which  is  at  work  there  to  the  present  day.  They  had  applied 
to  Beaumarchais,  Avho,  being  always  ready  to  undertake  useful 
enterprises  which  were  at  the  same  time  likely  to  be  profitable, 
had  provided  them  with  funds,  and  had  helped  them  to  organ- 
ize, under  the  title  of  "  The  Paris  Water  Company,"  a  society, 
of  which  he  was  one  of  the  principal  shareholders  and  one  of 
the  directors.  The  shares,  which  had  at  first  fallen  below  par, 
went  up  rapidly  and  considerably  in  1785.  Several  bankers, 
who  had  risked  a  great  deal  of  money  in  speculating  for  the 
fall,  had  a  very  great  interest  in  checking  and  reversing  this 
movement.  Mirabeau  was  then  in  Paris,  having  just  left  the 
prisons  where  he  had  spent  so  much  of  his  tempestuous  youth ; 
he  was,  at  the  time,  only  known  by  his  work  on  kttres  de  ca- 
chet, and  his  notorious  lawsuits  and  love-affairs.  Poor,  and 
longing  to  gratify  a  thousand  luxurious  tastes,  he  wandered 
through  society,  tottering  as  it  was,  stout  leo  rugiens  quarens 
quem  devoret,  or,  if  the  reader  prefer  it,  like  a  knight  errant  in 
search  of  adventures  and  combats.  Intimate  with  the  finan- 
ciers Panchaud  and  Claviere,  who  lent  him  money,  and  who 
were  especially  annoyed  by  the  rise  in  the  shares  of  the  water 
company,  and  supplied  by  them  with  information  more  or  less 
correct,  he  commenced  a  campaign  against  the  company  of  the 
brothers  Perier  in  a  flaming  pamphlet,  in  which  he  undertook 
to  open  the  eyes  of  the  nation  as  to  its  true  interests,  and  to 
prove  to  them  patriotically  that  the  fire-engine  at  Chaillot  was 
a  detestable  undertaking. 

As  shareholder  and  administrator,  Beaumarchais  had  also  a 
patriotic  interest  in  proving  the  contrary.  It  must  be  observed 
that  his  position  was  clearer  than  that  of  his  adversary,  as  he 
defended  his  own  speculation,  and  a  society  which  was  undis- 
putably  useful.  To  Mirabeau's  pamphlet  he  answered  by  one 
in  which,  contrary  to  his  custom,  he  was  perfectly  calm  and 
moderate,  and  only  occupied  himself  in  contradicting  his  ad- 
versary. Notwithstanding,  as  it  is  veiy  difficult  to  act  contra- 
ry to  one's  nature,  he  introduced  a  pun  which  was  not  in  the 
very  best  taste.  Comparing  JMirabeau's  pamphlet  to  the  "Phil- 


3IIRABEAU   VS.  BEAOLVBCH^US.  391 

ippics,"  he  called  them  "Mirabelles,"  and,  under  an  appear- 
ance of  courtesy,  insinuated  doubts  as  to  the  motives,  more  or 
less  interested,  which  had  guided  the  pen  of  the  friend  of  Pan- 
chaud  and  Claviei'e.  Nothing  more  was  wanting  to  rouse  a 
Hercules  who  longed  for  wounds  and  scars.  The  answer  soon 
appeared.  ^Mirabeau  replied  in  a  second  pamphlet,  in  which, 
almost  setting  aside  the  Paris  "Water  Company,  he  attacked 
the  author  of  "The  Marriage  of  Figaro"  ferociously,  spoke 
against  his  whole  life,  and  abused  him  dreadfully  in  the  name 
of  morality  and  public  order.  "When  IVIirabeau,  the  ravisher 
of  women,  defends  morality  against  Beaumarchais ;  when  Mi- 
rabeau,  who,  in  the  dungeon  of  Vincennes,  wrote  and  sold 
anonj'mously  the  most  vile  things,*  reproaches  Beaumarchais 
with  the  licentiousness  of  his  manners ;  when  Mirabeau,  the 
future  tribune  who  was  to  invoke  the  Gracchi  and  Marius, 
calls  Beaumarchais  to  account  for  his  attacks  against  the  or- 
ders of  the  state,  he  always  appears  to  me  amusing  rather  than 
impressive. 

"  The  Count  de  INIirabeau,"  says  Gudin,  "  lived  almost  en- 
tirely by  what  he  borrowed :  he  came  to  see  Beaumarchais ; 
they  only  knew  one  another  by  reputation ;  the  conversation 
between  them  was  lively,  animated,  and  witty.  At  last  the 
count,  with  the  levity  customary  with  the  borrowers  of  qual- 
ity, asked  Beaumarchais  to  lend  him  a  sum  of  twelve  thousand 
francs.  Beaumarchais  refused  with  that  original  gayety 
which  distinguished  him.  'But  you  could  easily  lend  me  that 
amount,'  said  the  count.  '  Without  doubt,'  replied  Beaumar- 
chais ;  '  but.  Monsieur  le  Comte,  as  I  should  have  to  break  off 
with  you  when  the  day  of  payment  annved,  I  would  rather  do 
so  at  once ;  I  gain  twelve  thousand  francs  by  it'  " 

After  Mirabeau's  second  pamphlet  an  answer  was  expected 
from  Beaumarchais.  To  the  great  surprise  of  the  public,  the 
latter  remained  silent.     Whether  he  considered  the  match  was 

*  "We  are  not  alluding  to  the  Vincennes  correspondence,  which  does 
not  deserve  to  be  spoken  of  in  such  a  manner — and  which,  besides,  was 
not  published  by  Mirabeau — but  of  several  other  cynical  works,  such  as 
the  "  Erotika  Biblion,"  "My  Conversion,"  &c.,  which  Mirabeau  wrote 
in  prison  to  procure  money,  and  which,  by  some  strange  tolerance,  the 
police  assisted  him  to  selL 


392  BEAIUIARCHAIS   AND    HIS   TIMES. 

not  equal,  and  that  his  antagonist  was  too  strong  for  him,  or 
had  too  little  to  lose,  or  whether  he  felt  that  need  of  rest  which 
age  brings  to  all,  even  the  most  warlike,  he  determined  to  re- 
main silent.  Did  he  act  prudently  ?  That  is  doubtful ;  for  a 
new  advei'sary  will  be  shortly  seen  to  take  advantage  of  this 
sign  of  prudence  in  order  to  attack  Beaumarchais  in  his  turn 
with  unequaled  fury. 

Four  years  had  passed  over  this  quarrel.  Mirabeau  had 
become  the  great  orator  and  the  great  statesman  of  the  Con- 
stituent Assembly,  when  one  fine  day  in  1790,  fatigued  in  his 
turn  with  the  storms  of  life,  he  wrote  to  Beaumarchais  the  fol- 
lowing letter : 

"  As  my  writing  can  not  displease  you,  sir,  when  it  is  accompanied 
by  behavior  which  you  will  not  disapprove  of,  I  have  determined  to 
address  myself  to  you  in  a  direct  manner,  rather  than  through  in- 
termediaries, in  order  to  be  enlightened  upon  a  point  which  regards 
you. 

"  Having  almost  reached  that  age,  and,  above  all,  that  mental  dis- 
position in  which  I  also  wish  to  think  only  of  my  books  and  my  gar- 
den, I  had,  in  looking  over  the  national  estates,  cast  my  eyes  upon 
the  '  Minims'  in  the  Wood  of  Vincennes ;  I  hear  that  your  thoughts 
are  turned  in  that  direction ;  it  is  even  said  that  you  have  made  the 
highest  bid  ;  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  if  you  desire  this  pretty  res- 
idence, you  will  give  much  more  for  it  than  I  should,  because  you  are 
much  more  able  to  do  so ;  and  that  being  settled,  I  should  think  it 
very  disobliging  of  me  to  send  up  the  price  of  a  thing  to  which  I 
should  no  longer  be  able  to  aspire.  Have  the  kindness,  then,  to  tell 
me  if  I  have  been  correctly  informed,  if  you  are  very  anxious  to  make 
this  purchase,  and  from  that  moment  I  withdraw  my  offers ;  if,  on 
the  contrary,  you  have  only  a  slight  inclination  to  possess  it,  or  mere- 
ly a  desire  to  encourage  these  sales  for  the  good  of  the  state,  reserv- 
ing to  yourself  to  get  rid,  at  a  subsequent  period,  of  an  estate  which 
is  probably  too  near  your  present  beautiful  habitation  for  you  to  in- 
tend to  make  it  your  country  house,  I  am  persuaded  you  will  behave 
to  me  as  I  do  to  you,  and  that  you  will  not  compete  to  send  up  the 
purchase. 

"  I  have  the  honor  to  be  most  sincerely,  sir,  &c., 

"  Mirabeau  the  Elder. 

"  September  17,  1790." 

Here  is  Beaumarchais'  answer : 

"  I  am  about  to  reply  to  your  letter,  sir,  with  frankness  and  free- 


BEAUMARCHAIS   VS.  MIBABEAU.  393 

dom.    I  have  long  been  seeking  an  opportunity  of  revenging  my- 
self on  you ;  you  now  offer  it  to  me  yourself,  and  I  accept  it  with 

joy- 

"  All  the  motives  you  mention  did  influence  me  in  wishing  to  make 
the  purchase.  Another  more  powerful  one  was  added  to  them ;  and 
although  it  may  appear  strange,  it  was  nevertheless  the  one  which 
decided  me.  At  the  age  of  twelve,  when  about  to  make  my  first 
communion  (you  laugh  1)  I  was  taken  to  the  '  Minims ;'  a  large  pic- 
ture of  the  '  Last  Judgment,'  which  was  in  their  vestry,  made  such 
an  impression  on  my  mind,  that  I  returned  to  see  it  very  often.  An 
old  monk,  of  much  wit,  tliereupon  undertook  to  tear  me  away  from 
the  world.  He  gave  me  a  sermon,  every  time  I  saw  him,  on  the  large 
f)icture,  accompanying  his  sermon  with  refreshments.  1  had  become 
very  fond  of  his  retreat  and  his  moral  lessons,  and  I  went  there  ev- 
ery holiday.  Since  this  time  1  have  always  taken  a  pleasure  in  vis- 
iting this  cloister,  and  as  soon  as  the  estates  of  our  poor  shorn  ones 
were  offered  for  sale,  I  gave  directions  for  outbidding  every  one  for 
this  one.  So  many  motives  combined  make  this  acquisition  dear  to 
me  ;  but  my  vengeance  is  still  more  so,  and  I  am  no  longer  so  good- 
natured  as  I  was  in  my  childhood.  You  desire  my  cloister ;  I  give  it 
up  to  you,  and  resign  all  claims  upon  it,  too  happy  to  place  my  ene- 
my at  last  between  four  walls.  1  am  the  only  person  who  could  do 
it,  now  that  there  are  no  more  Bastilles. 

"  If  in  your  anger  you  are  still  sufficiently  generous  not  to  inter- 
fere with  the  salvation  of  my  soul,  reserve  for  me,  sir,  the  great  pic- 
ture of  the  '  Last  Judgment.'  My  last  judgment  upon  it  is,  that  it  is 
a  very  fine  piece,  and  made  to  honor  my  chapel.  You  will  thus  have 
your  revenge  on  me,  as  I  have  my  revenge  on  you.  If  you  have 
need  of  good  information,  or  even  of  ray  assistance,  to  facilitate  your 
purchase,  speak,  and  I  will  do  whatever  you  wish  in  the  matter ;  for 
if,  sir,  I  am  the  most  implacable  of  all  your  enemies,  my  friends  say 
laughingly  that  I  am  the  best  of  all  ill-natured  men. 

"  Beacmarchais." 

The  thanks  of  ]Mirabeau  were  not  long  forthcoming : 

"  I  must  have  been  beside  myself  with  joy  yesterday,  as  I  in  fact 
was,  sir,  not  to  have  answered  your  kind  letter  immediately.  The 
candor  of  the  age  you  recall  is  shown  in  it  no  less  than  its  gayety 
and  ingenuity ;  and  never  did  more  engaging  form  accompany  kind- 
er conduct.  Yes,  certainly,  the  picture  which  has  remained  so  vivid- 
ly impressed  on  your  imagination  in  the  course  of  a  life  which  must 
necessarily  have  somewhat  distracted  your  attention  from  the  '  Last 
Judgment,'  is  yours,  if  I  become  the  owner  of  this  cloister  ;  and  to 
my  ambition  in  this  respect  is  added  a  prayer — it  is  that  you  will 

R2 


394  BEAtMAECHAIS  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

come  yourself  to  seek  your  souvenir  of  the  vestry,  and  admit  that  no 
faults  are  inexpiable  and  no  anger  eternal. 

"  MiRABEAU    THE    ElDER. 
"  September  19, 1790." 

A  kind  letter  from  Beaumarchais  terminates  this  corre- 
spondence : 

"  I  am  more  touched,  sir,  with  your  letter  than  I  dare  confess. 
Allow  me  to  send  you  the  good  man  whom  I  had  intrusted  with  the 
settlement  of  this  affair.  He  was  formerly  one  of  the  brokers  of  the 
municipality ;  he  will  explain  to  you  what  value  your  purchase  pos- 
sesses, and  what  you  can  do  with  it.  This  will  enable  you  to  judge, 
if  you  do  not  already  know,  to  what  amount  you  can  bid. 

"  Since  my  badinage  did  not  displease  you,  receive  now  my  most 
sincere  assurance  that  the  past  has  been  totally  forgotten.  Turn  my 
old  vestry  into  a  dining-room,  and  I  will  accept  in  it  with  joy  a  civic 
and  frugal  repast.  Thanks  to  the  Revolution,  no  one  feels  humili- 
ated now  at  offering  them  of  such  a  kind,  and  we  have  all  become 
rich  from  the  diminution  it  has  caused  in  vain  expenses,  which  made 
us  poor  without  giving  us  any  real  pleasure.  Have  good  workmen, 
and  let  them  be  good  enough  to  finish  their  work  quickly.  It  will 
certainly  be  excellent  if  it  be  only  done  with  rapidity, 

"  Receive  the  salutations  of  the  Cultivator." 

Thus  time  appeases  the  most  burning  animosities.  This 
project  of  seeking  repose  in  the  country  was  one  of  the  chi- 
meras with  which  Mirabeau  nursed  his  imagination  in  his 
hours  of  lassitude  :  it  had  no  result ;  the  man  of  battles  was 
to  die  in  the  breach ;  but  it  appeared  to  us  that  this  pacific 
correspondence,  in  which  each  of  the  two  former  enemies  ex- 
hibits himself  in  his  true  aspect,  possessed  more  sincerity,  and 
consequently  more  interest  than  their  quarrel. 


CHAPTEK  XXIV. 


Another  Lawsuit.  —  Exercise  of  Marital  Authority.  —  A  complaisant 
Husband.  —  Bergasse  and  his  Memorials.  —  Verdict  for  Beaumar- 
chais. 

In  his  dispute  with  Mirabeau  on  the  subject  of  the  Paris 
Water  Company,  Beaumarchais  had  caused  the  public  to  look 
upon  him  as  a  man  whose  strength  was  beginning  to  fail. 
This  was  encouraging:  for  those  who  might  feel  anxious  to 


EXERCISE   OP   MARTTAl,   AUTUORTTY.  395 

make  a  reputation  for  themselves  at  the  expense  of  his,  and 
he  was  not  long  before  he  found  himself  assailed  by  a  new  ad- 
versary.    In  February,  1787,  when  he  was  occupying  himself 
with  the  opera  of  "  Tarare,"  of  which  we  shall  speak  further 
on,  a  very  large  number  of  copies  were  circulated  in  Paris  of 
a  somewhat  voluminous  and  very  virulent  pamphlet,  entitled 
"  Memorial  on  the  Question  of  Adultery,  Seduction,  and  Def- 
amation on  the  part  of  le  Sieur  Kornman,  against  la  Dame 
Kornman,  his  wife,  le  Sieur  Daudet  de  Jossan,  le  Sieur  Pierre- 
Augustin  Caron  de  Beaumarchais,  and  M.  Lenoir,  councilor 
of  state,  formerly  lieutenant-general  of  police."     This  Memo- 
rial, in  a  form  which  was  no  longer  in  use,  printed  without 
the  printer's  name,  and  containing  an  accusation  addressed  to 
the  public  and  not  to  any  court  of  justice,  was  simply  signed 
Kornman ;  but  the  style  gave  evidence  of  a  pen  more  skilled 
than  that  of  an  Alsacian  banker.     As  the  affair  in  question 
had  an  immense  celebrity,  in  consequence  of  the  circumstances 
and  the  persons  who  were  attacked,  we  must  first  explain  by 
what  tour  de  force  an  advocate  who  was  then  obscure,  but 
thirsting  for  celebrity,  had  been  able  to  involve  Beaumarchais 
in  an  action  for  adultery,  with  which  he  had  nothing  what- 
ever to  do,  and  which  had  been  commenced  six  years  before. 
In  October,  1781,  the  author  of  "  The  Barber  of  Seville,"  when 
dining  with  the  Prince  de  Nassau-Siegen,  had  been  warmly 
solicited  by  the  Prince  and  Princess  to  interest  himself  in  the 
fate  of  a  young  Avoman,  whom  her  husband  had  kept  for  six 
months  shut  up  in  a  house  of  detention,  in  virtue  of  a  lettre 
de  cachet,  and  to  unite  his  exertions  to  those  they  were  mak- 
ing themselves  in  her  favor.     Rendered  prudent  by  experience, 
Beaumarchais,  before  mixing  himself  up  in  so  delicate  an  af- 
fair, asked  for  all  possible  particulars.     A  touching  petition, 
which  this  young  woman  wrote  from  her  prison  to  the  Presi- 
dent of  the  Parliament,  was  shown  to  him.     She  was  a  for- 
eigner, bom  in   Switzerland,  without  father  or  mother,  and 
had  been  married  at  the  age  of  fifteen  to  an  Alsacian  banker, 
to  whom  she  brought  a  portion  of  300,000  francs.     She  had 
two  children,  and  was  enceinte  with  a  third.     The  affairs  of 
her  husband  were  in  a  bad  condition.     She  had  wished  to  pre- 
serve her  portion  for  the  sake  of  her  children,  and  her  husband 


396  BEAUMAKCHAIS   AND    HIS   TJilES. 

had  had  her  imprisoned  through  a  lettre  de  cachet  as  an  adul- 
teress. She  met  the  accusation  with  a  feeble  denial,  and  it  ap- 
pears that  it  was  really  weU  founded ;  but  she  claimed  the 
right  of  defending  her  fortune  and  honor  before  a  court  of 
justice,  and  asked  not  to  be  condemned  to  perish  from  suffer- 
ing by  having  to  give  birth  to  her  cliild  in  a  place  where  mad 
women  and  prostitutes  were  shut  up.  In  order  to  make  Beau- 
marchais  completely  decided,  they  moreover  showed  him  let- 
ters written  by  the  husband  to  the  man  he  accused  of  having 
seduced  his  wife,  and  introduced  the  seducer  to  him ;  he  was 
an  elegant,  witty  young  man,  of  light  morals,  named  Daudet 
de  Jossan,  who  was  rather  intimate  with  the  Prince  and 
Princess  of  Nassau,  and  who  was  grandson  of  Adrienne  Le- 
couvreur  and  Marshal  Saxe.* 

Daudet,  through  the  patronage  of  the  last  minister  of  war, 
the  Prince  de  Montbarey,  had  obtained  the  place,  then  an  im- 
portant one,  of  Syndic-i'oyal,  attached  to  the  town  of  Stras- 
burg.  As  this  position  gave  him  a  certain  influence  in  Alsace, 
Kornmaa  had  received  him  at  his  house  in  Paris.  He  had 
fallen  in  love  with  Madame  Komman,  the  husband  had  re- 
solved what  to  do  under  the  circumstances,  had  made  his  wife's 
lover  his  friend,  and  had  profited  by  his  influence  with  the 
minister  Montbarey,  until  the  period  when  the  retirement  of 
this  minister  caused  Daudet  to  lose  his  place  and  influence. 
The  good-natured  and  complaisant  husband  suddenly  became 
transformed  into  an  Othello.  Komman' s  letters  to  his  wife's 
lover,  in  fact,  expressed  a  toleration  so  ignoble,  that  Beaumar- 
chais  hesitated  no  longer.  He  hastened  to  the  ministers,  and 
with  that  persevering  activity  which  he  exhibited  in  whatever 
he  undertook,  he  soon  obtained  the  revocation  of  the  lettre  de 
cachet,  and  an  order  from  the  king  enjoining  the  lieutenant  of 
police,  M.  Lenoir,  to  have  his  prisoner  conducted  to  the  house 
of  a  surgeon-accoucheur,  where  she  could  be  at  liberty  to  re- 
ceive her  men  of  business,  and  to  discuss  her  interests,  in  con- 
nection with  her  husband.  Thus  the  same  man  who  just  be- 
fore had  been  unable  to  preserve  himself  personally  from  a 

*  The  father  of  Daudet,  director  of  the  salt  depot  of  the  town  of 
Strasburg,  had  man-ied  Francoise-Catharine-Ursule  Lecouvreur,  natural 
daughter  of  the  celebrated  tragic  actress  and  Marshal  Saxe. 


BEKGASSE.  397 

most  arbitrary  and  insulting  act  of  authority,  had  sometimes 
more  power  than  a  prince  when  the  liberty  of  another  person 
had  to  be  obtained.  This  is  another  proof  of  that  social  dis- 
cordance in  all  things  which  was  preparing  the  way  for  the 
Kevolution,  and  which  we  have  already  called  attention  to 
several  times  in  the  course  of  this  work.  However  this  may 
be,  Kornman,  seeing  that  his  wife  was  escaping  his  power, 
tried  to  effect  a  reconciliation  with  her ;  five  years  were  pass- 
ed in  abortive  attempts  to  make  up  the  differences,  and  in  com- 
mencing lawsuits  for  a  separation.  In  the  interval,  the  com- 
mercial affairs  of  the  banker  became  worse  and  worse ;  he  was 
obliged  to  suspend  his  payments,  and  his  wife,  to  whom  Beau- 
marchais,  as  a  consequence  of  the  first  service  he  had  rendered 
her,  could  no  longer  refuse  advice,  had  to  commence  law  pro- 
ceedings against  him  in  order  to  preserve  her  dowry. 

Things  were  in  this  position  when  Kornman  happened  to 
form  the  acquaintance  of  the  young  advocate  Bergasse,  who 
was  still  unknown,  or,  rather,  known  only  by  the  extreme  en- 
thusiasm which  he  had  exhibited  in  some  pamphlets  in  favor 
of  the  magnetic  experiments  of  Mesmer.  Whether  Bergasse 
really  put  faith  in  the  more  or  less  fantastic  stories  which 
Kornman  told  him,  whether  he  perceived  a  fair  opportunity 
for  bringing  himself  out  with  advantage,  or  whether,  in  fine, 
be  was  induced  by  these  two  motives  together,  it  is  certain 
that  it  was  he  who  determined  the  Alsacian  banker  to  confide 
to  the  public  the  details  which  one  generally  likes  to  keep  se- 
cret. It  was  at  the  instigation  of  the  impetuous  Bergasse 
that  Kornman  decided  to  let  the  affair  make  as  much  noise  as 
possible,  including  in  the  same  denunciation  his  wife  and  her 
presumed  accomplice,  Daudet  de  Jossan;  the  lieutenant-gen- 
eral of  police,  whom  Kornman  also  suspected,  rightly  or 
wrongly,  of  having  been  his  wife's  lover,  and  who,  having 
just  given  up  his  place,  presented  the  advantage  of  being  in  a 
position  to  be  attacked  usefully  and  without  danger;  the 
Prince  of  Nassau  even,  whom  Bergasse  was  to  attack  in  a 
second  "Memorial;"  and  finally,  but  above  all,  Beaumar- 
chais,  the  "  fearful,"  the  "  villainous"  Beaumarchais,  who  was 
put  forward  as  the  working  hinge  of  the  most  abominable 
plot  against  all  laws,  human  and  divine. 


398  BEAUMARCHAIS   AND    HIS   TIMES. 

Such  was  the  object  of  the  first  Memorial,  published  in 
Kornman's  name,  written  by  Bergasse,  and  circulated  by  thou- 
sands throughout  Paris.  This  Memorial,  pompous  from  one 
end  to  another,  often  exaggerated  and  incorrect,  presents,  nev- 
ertheless, some  sufficiently  brilliant  pages;  but  as  regards 
logic,  reason,  and  law,  it  really  does  not  bear  examination. 
It  is  really  a  mass  of  confusion.  What  do  we  find  in  it  ?  A 
husband  who  narrates,  or  rather  an  advocate  who  makes  a 
husband  relate,  in  an  emphatic  style,  the  wrongs  he  imputes  to 
his  wife,  with  an  epigraph  in  Latin  vei-se,  taken  from  Clau- 
dian's  poem  against  Ruffinus,  an  epigraph  which  was  specially 
directed  against  Beaumarchais,  although  he  had  nothing  what- 
ever to  do  with  the  principal  fact,  namely,  the  adultery  of 
Madame  Kornman.  One  thing,  which  for  the  rest  would  tend 
to  indicate  a  certain  good  faith  on  the  part  of  Bergasse,  at  all 
events,  at  the  commencement  of  the  affau*,  is,  that  in  his  per- 
petual excitement  he  forgets  every  instant  that  he  is  clothing 
in  an  imposing  style  details  which  reflect  but  little  honor  on 
his  client.  He  might,  for  example,  dispense  with  showing  us 
that  this  husband  for  a  year  carries  his  good-nature  to  the  ex- 
tent of  the  most  shameful  tolerance,  after  which  he  has  his 
wife  confined  as  soon  as  any  question  arises  of  a  division  of 
property.  He  might  dispense  with  making  this  husband  ut- 
ter the  naive  confession,  that  if  he  waited  six  years  before  mak- 
ing the  disclosure  public,  he  did  so  because  the  lieutenant  of 
police,  whom  he  accuses  of  being  one  of  his  wife's  lovers,  fiad 
promised  him  a  place  in  the  Indies.  Finally,  is  it  not  singular 
that  a  husband,  after  having  dragged  his  wife  publicly  through 
the  mud,  after  having  accused  her  not  only  of  very  grave  and 
very  frequent  irregularities,  but  also  of  swindling,  and  even 
of  being  an  accomplice  in  some  affair  connected  with  a  mur- 
der, which  was  a  perfect  romance,  should  arrive  finally  at  the 
conclusion  that  his  wife  and  her  portion  should  be  left  to  him 
— the  portion,  apparently,  because  it  was  a  good  thing  to  have, 
the  wife  because,  says  this  amiable  husband,  she  has  cTred  rath- 
er tlian  sinned,  and  because  he  desires  she  may  live  surrounded 
by  the  esteem  which  she  may  yet  deserve  ?  And  all  this  to  lead 
up  to  an  invocation  of  all  the  rigor  of  the  law,  not  only  upon 
the  head  of  the  suborner  or  suborners,  which  would  have  been 


bergasse's  jiemoeials.  399 

natural  enough,  at  all  events,  on  the  part  of  any  other  hus- 
band, but  upon  the  head  of  Beaumarchais,  against  whom  no 
other  precise  fact  is  alleged  than  that  of  having  helped  to  ob- 
tain from  the  ministers  the  revocation  of  a  lettve  de  cachet  in 
favor  of  a  woman  who  was  on  the  point  of  being  brought  to 
bed  in  a  house  of  detention.  In  order  to  have  every  thing 
logical,  moreover,  in  the  Memorials  of  Bergasse,  we  find  in  them 
the  most  ardent  declamations  against  lett)-es  de  cachet. 

Excited  by  the  example  of  Mirabeau,  Bergasse  leaves  him 
far  behind  in  the  violence  of  language.  All  the  most  insult- 
ing expressions  and  withering  imputations  which  rage  can  in- 
spire are  heaped  upon  Beaumarchais.  And  as  if  it  were  not 
enough  to  call  him  "  a  man  whose  saanlegious  existence  attests  in 
so  disgraceful  and  flagrant  a  manner  the  degree  oi  profound 
depravity  to  which  we  have  arrived,"  in  another  Memorial  this 
advocate,  speaking  in  his  own  name  to  Beaumarchais,  whom 
he  does  not  know,  whom  he  has  never  seen — "  Malheureux  tu 
sites  le  crime  /"*  At  an  ordinary  period  and  to  an  impartial 
public,  Beaumarchais'  answer  to  these  invectives  would  have 
appeared  crushing,  for  he  contented  himself  with  opposing,  as 
he  said,  to  Komman- Bergasse,  Komman  himself;  that  is  to 
say,  that  to  this  husband,  so  pompous  with  his  sensitiveness, 
his  indignation,  and  his  virtue — to  this  husband,  who,  with 
the  pen  of  Bergasse,  enlarged  with  so  much  facility  on  the 
sacredness  of  the  conjugal  tie,  he  opposed  the  real  husband,  the 
husband  who  wTOte — during  the  very  year  in  which  his  wife's 
relations  with  Daudet  had  filled  him  with  indignation  in  his 
Memorial — letters  in  which  he  made  of  this  suborner  his  friend, 
his  confidant,  his  patron  with  the  ministers,  the  architect  of 
his  fortune,  the  friend  and  habitual  companion  of  his  wife. 
He  showed  that  Komman  deserved  to  be  placed  in  the  very 
embarrassing  dilemma  which  was  subsequently  put  to  him 
at  the  hearing  by  Daudet's  advocate:  "Either  you  are  the 

*  We  have  stated  above  that  Beaumarchais'  unaccustomed  prudence 
in  his  dispute  with  Mirabeau  had  encouraged  Bergasse.  The  latter,  in 
fact,  confesses  it  ingenuously  when  he  speaks  of  the  author  of  "The 
Marriage  of  Figaro"  as  a  man  "who,  when  dragged  publicly  through 
the  mud  by  a  famous  writer  whom  he  had  the  impudence  to  insult,  did 
not  dare  to  raise  his  head  before  him,  and  By  his  gidlty  silence  justified 
the  opprobrium  with  which  he  was  covered." 


400  BEAL'JIARCHAIS    AND    HIS    TIMES. 

most  atrocious  calumniator,  or  you  are  tlie  vilest  of  husbands ; 
you  must  choose  between  the  two." 

As  for  Beaumarchais,  after  having  thus  exposed  the  mo- 
rality of  the  plaintiiF  in  its  true  light,  it  was  not  difficult  for 
him  to'  demonstrate,  in  the  most  incontrovertible  manner,  that 
there  were  no  reasonable  grounds  for  mixing  him  up  in  this 
accusation  of  adultery.  Unhappily  for  him,  the  public  cared 
very  little  about  who  was  right  or  wrong  upon  the  main 
question,  which  was  insignificant  enough  in  itself,  but  only 
troubled  itself  as  to  who  would  conquer  in  this  war  to  the 
death,  which  a  new  adversaiy  was  declaring  against  Beau- 
marchais ;  for  after  the  noise  of  the  first  Memorial,  Bergasse, 
desirous  of  appearing  on  the  stage,  and  undei-standing,  more- 
over, that  it  was  scarcely  becoming  to  avoid  the  responsibility 
of  his  attacks  any  longer  by  borrowing  the  name  of  Komman, 
when  every  one  knew  that  the  Memorial  was  his  own,  had 
positively  declared  himself  to  be  the  author;  and  Beaumar- 
chais having  cited  him,  as  weU  as  Kornman,  before  the  Parha- 
ment  for  defamation,  Bergasse  had  to  continue  the  dispute 
both  in  the  name  of  Komman  and  his  own.  Now  here  he 
possessed  several  advantages  over  Beaumarchais.  He  had  yet 
neither  enemies  nor  enviers  ;  with  a  bilious  temperament  and 
a  very  ardent  imagination,  he  had  naturally  a  certain  em- 
phatic style,  which  was  proof  against  the  irony  of  the  author 
of  "  The  Marriage  of  Figaro,"  and  the  violence  of  his  periods, 
which  were  often  forced,  but  always  sonorous,  looked  like  the 
earnestness  resulting  from  conviction.  He  was  no  less  skillful 
than  violent ;  for,  profiting  by  circumstances — by  the  quarrels 
between  the  ministry  and  the  Parliament,  which  caused  the 
administration  of  justice  to  be  suspended,  and  made  his  law- 
suit drag  over  nearly  two  years,  he  managed  to  take  exactly 
the  same  part  that  Beaumarchais  had  formerly  taken  at  the 
time  of  the  Goezman  lawsuit,  and  to  connect  with  this  dis- 
pute all  the  preoccupations  of  the  day.  The  groundwork  of 
the  affair  thus  disappeared  beneath  the  accessories,  and  soon, 
in  the  Memorials  of  Bergasse,  the  chief  subjects  were  not  M. 
and  Madame  Komman,  but  the  exile  of  the  Parliament  and 
the  villainy  of  Beaumarchais,  whom  he  accused  of  being  sold 
to  the  ministers ;  the  liberty  of  the  press,  the  States-General, 


bekgasse's  memorials.  401 

and  the  "villainy"  of  Beaumarchais,  who  was  declared  to  be 
the  enemy  of  their  rights.  All  the  idlers  naturally  took  part 
in  the  contest,  which  is  one  of  the  great  events  of  the  epoch. 
During  the  two  years  which  it  lasted,  nearly  four  hundred 
pamphlets  were  published  on  the  subject,  Bergasse  introducing 
into  them  all  the  names,  more  or  less  unpopular,  which  he 
found  ready  to  his  pen,  and  each  person  mentioned  publishing 
in  his  turn  answers  and  explanations.  Beaumarchais  only 
wrote  three  Memorials  during  the  Kornman  lawsuit ;  they  are 
incontestably  much  weaker  than  those  he  ^vrote  against  Goez- 
man  and  others.  He  was  in  this  case  so  perfectly  in  the  right 
as  to  the  main  questions,  that  he  did  not  know  how  to  defend 
himself  against  the  declamatory  generalities  under  which  it 
was  sought  to  crush  him.  It  was  in  vain  that  bis  friends  ad- 
vised him  to  avoid  the  forms  of  satire,  which  would  not  an- 
swer, inasmuch  as  Bergasse  had  managed  to  make  of  the  affair 
a  great  question  of  public  morality,  in  which  he  put  himself 
forward  as  the  defender  of  virtue  against  a  "  mass  of  per- 
verted men :"  as  public  opinion  was  disposed  te  accept  him 
in  that  character,  he  ought  to  be  deprived  of  it  with  serious- 
ness, and  met  with  a  violence  equal  to  his  own;  but  Beau- 
marchais was  beginning  to  gi'ow  old ;  he  had  habits  of  intel- 
lect which  it  was  now  impossible  for  him  to  give  up.  Not 
satisfied  with  proving  that  in  all  this  there  was  nothing  to  re- 
proach him  with,  which  was  very  true,  he  allowed  himself  to 
make  jokes  about  Komman,  which  spoiled  his  position,  and 
laid  him  open  to  the  austere  philippics  of  Bergasse. 

On  his  side,  Bergasse,  who  writes  modestly,  "  I  will  carry 
human  eloquence  as  far  as  it  can  go,"  professes  singular  opin- 
ions as  to  the  right,  which,  according  to  his  idea,  every  person 
enjoyed  of  attacking  the  reputation  of  a  celebrated  man,  and 
overwhelming  him  with  insults.  Let  us  hear  him  :  "I  have, 
you  say,  merely  written  facts  which  are  false ;  I  have,  then, 
incun-ed  all  the  penalties  attached  to  calumny.  "Well !  even 
on  this  supposition  (evidently  false),  M.  Komman  would  have 
deceived  me ;  you  would  have  a  right  to  attack  him,  and  to 
demand  satisfaction  for  his  imposture  ;  but  I,  whose  intentions 
have  been  so  pure — whose  conduct  has  been  so  frank — whose 
aim  has  been  so  worthy  of  praise — I  shall  always  be  above 


402  BEAUMARCHAIS  A^^)  HIS  TEMES. 

your  reach.  .  .  .  But,  you  say,  we  prosecute  you,  not  because 
you  wrote  the  Memorials  of  M.  Kornman,  but  because  you 
have  represented  us  in  them  under  the  most  odious  features. 
.  .  .  That  is  to  say,"  cries  Bergasse,  "  that  you  wish  to  punish 
me  for  being  myself  and  not  any  one  else ;  for  not  having 
written  with  your  faculties,  but  with  my  OAvn.  .  .  ."  And  as 
the  faculties  of  Bergasse  are  essentially  inclined  toward  viru- 
lence, after  having,  during  two  years,  accumulated  every  in- 
sult on  Beaumarchais,  on  M.  Lenoir,  and  on  the  Prince  of 
Nassau,  at  the  last  hearing  he  administers  to  them  the  follow- 
ing peroration :  "  Let  these  perverted  men  learn  that  I  shall 
never  cease  pursuing  them ;  that  as  long  as  they  remain  un- 
punished, I  shall  not  be  silent ;  that  I  must  be  sacxificed  at 
their  feet,  or  they  must  fall  at  mine.  The  altar  of  justice  is 
at  this  moment  to  me  the  altar  of  vengeance,  and  upon  this 
altar — henceforth  fatal — I  swear  that  there  shall  never  be 
peace  between  us ;  that  I  will  never  leave  them ;  that  I  will 
rest  no  more ;  that  I  will  attach  myself  to  them  like  remorse 
to  the  guilty  conscience.  And  you,  who  preside  over  this 
august  tribunal — ^you,  the  friend  of  morals  and  laws — ^you,  in 
whom  we  all  admire,  &c.,  &c.,  receive  my  oaths."  The  numer- 
ous admirers  of  Bergasse  considered  this  sublime. 

The  Parliament  accepted  the  oaths  of  this  impetuous  advo- 
cate at  what  they  were  worth  ;  and  though  he  had  carefully 
and  incessantly  mixed  up  the  flattery  of  his  judges  with  invec- 
tives against  the  author  of  "  The  Marriage  of  Figaro,"  a  de- 
cree of  April  2d,  1789,  suppressing  his  Memorials  as  false,  in- 
sulting, and  calumnious,  condemned  him  to  pay  Beaumarchais 
a  thousand  livres  damages,  and  warned  him  against  repeating 
the  offense  under  pain  of  exemplary  punishment.  Kornman  was 
sentenced  to  the  same  penalties,  and,  moreover,  in  considera- 
tion of  the  proofs  of  his  guilty  connivance,  declared  incapaci- 
tated for  sustaining  his  accusation  of  adultery  against  his  wife 
and  Daudet  de  Jossan. 

Parliament  must  have  had  a  certain  amount  of  courage  to 
give  this  decision,  for  the  result  ©f  this  prolonged  contest  had 
been  to  raise  against  Beaumarchais  a  universal  outcry.  At- 
tacked every  day  in  anonymous  letters  of  the  most  furious  de- 
scription, assaulted  once  even  in  the  street,  he  could  no  Ion- 


INJUSTICE   TOAVAED    BEAUilAKCHAIS.  403 

ger  go  out  in  the  evening  without  being  armed  and  accompa- 
nied. Bergasse,  on  the  contrary,  had  for  the  moment  become 
the  idol  of  the  public.  This  multitude,  which  overflowed  the 
large  hall  of  the  Parliament — this  multitude,  which,  in  the  time 
of  the  Goezman  lawsuit,  bore  Beaumarchais  in  triumph,  re- 
ceived the  news  of  his  victory  with  murmurs,  reserving  all  its 
sympathies  and  all  its  admiration  for  his  adversary.  Never- 
theless, in  this  afiair  his  position  was  incontestably  better,  both 
morally  and  legally,  than  in  the  affair  with  Goezman ;  but  as 
he  had,  perhaps,  formerly  somewhat  abused  the  favor  of  pub- 
lic opinion,  Providence  doubtless  wished  that  he  should  feel 
all  the  bitterness  of  its  injustice.*  On  the  same  day  the  friends 
of  Bergasse  said  that  his  adversary  had  bought  over  the  Par- 
liament. He  had  so  far  bought  it  over  that  I  can  not  prevent 
myself  from  here  transcribing  an  interesting  detail,  which  I 
find  among  my  papers,  and  which  proves  that  the  true  Parlia- 
ment had  nothing  in  common  as  to  the  matter  of  integrity 
with  the  Maupeou  Parliament. 

In  this  celebrated  action,  in  which  the  five  or  six  first  ad- 

*  The  injustice  continued  even  after  Beaumarchais'  death.  Bergasse, 
having  had  the  advantage  of  surviving  him  a  long  time  (he  lived  until 
1832),  profited  by  the  advantages  of  the  situation,  and  although  his 
Memorials  were  very  justly  declared  false  and  calumnious  by  magistrates 
who  certainly  had  no  predilection  for  the  author  of  "  The  Marriage  of 
Figaro,"  three  of  them  have  been  inserted  in  a  rather  well-known  col- 
lection, published  under  the  title  of  the  "  French  Bar."  The  editors 
of  this  collection  suppressed  Beaumarchais'  replies,  because,  say  they, 
"they  are  merely  judicial  pleadings  of  very  mediocre  quality."  That 
is  possible,  but  it  does  not  render  the  exclusive  publication  of  Bergasse's 
very  black  calumnies  the  more  just.  The  editors,  to  console  their  con- 
sciences, add  that  Bergasse  gives  accurately,  in  his  memorials,  the  con- 
tents of  Beaumarchais'  answers.  Nothing  in  the  world  can  be  more  in- 
accurate than  this  assertion.  One  thing,  on  the  contrary,  which  distin- 
guished Bergasse's  Memorials  is  his  ingenious  silence  with  regard  to 
the  characteristic  facts  of  the  case,  and  in  the  manner  in  which  he  per- 
petually, and  sometimes  eloquently,  diverges  to  facts  which  are  foreign 
to  the  question,  so  that  the  nature  of  the  lawsuit  is  as  completely  mis- 
represented as  that  of  Beaumarchais  himself.  Those  who  may  wish  to 
gain  a  better  knowledge  of  both  will  do  well  to  consult,  in  addition  to 
Beaumarchais'  answers,  the  less  known  collection  by  Mejan,  entitled 
"  Causes  Celebres,"  in  which  the  one  in  question  is  analyzed  with  suffi- 
cient accuracy. 


404  BEAUMAKCHAIS   AND   HIS  TIMES. 

vocates  of  Paris  took  part,  a  young  barrister,  twenty-nine 
years  of  age,  Dambray,  who  was  afterward  Count  Dambray, 
and  Chancellor  of  France  under  the  Restoration,  spoke  for  the 
first  time  as  advocate-general.  After  the  pleadings  at  the 
final  hearing,  Dambray  had  to  give  his  conclusions,  and  to 
separate  the  case  from  all  the  complicated  balderdash  with 
which  it  had  been  overloaded.  Obliged  to  speak  for  several 
hours,  and  stifled  by  the  heat,  the  young  advocate-general  had 
fainted  twice ;  after  each  fainting-fit,  he  resumed  his  argument 
where  he  had  left  it  off  with  as  much  presence  of  mind  as  if  it 
had  not  been  interrupted,  and  pursued  it  with  an  eloquence 
which  was  full  of  power  and  lucidity.  Without  troubling  him- 
self about  the  sudden  popularity  of  Bergasse,  or  the  unpopu- 
larity of  Beaumarchais,  he  had  arrived  at  a  just  conclusion, 
and  in  a  certain  way  had  dictated  to  the  conscience  of  the 
judges  the  judgment  which  had  just  been  pronounced. 

Several  days  after  this  judgment  Beaumarchais  felt  anxious 
to  satisfy  a  feeling  of  gratitude  toward  Dambray,  and  not 
knowing  exactly  how  to  act  so  as  to  avoid  wounding  his  sus- 
ceptibility, he  had  a  box  left  at  his  porter's  lodge  containing 
a  superb  cameo  and  the  following  anonymous  letter,  which 
was  not  in  his  own  handwriting : 

EXECUTION    OF   A   LEGACY. 

"  This  antique  portrait  of  Cicero,  engraved  on  peridot,  a  fine  stone 
of  the  first  quality  after  the  emerald,  was  the  favorite  ring  which  was 
always  worn  by  M.  d'Emery^  the  most  celebrated  antiquary  of  the 
eighteenth  century.  When  he  died  he  left  it  in  trust  to  one  of  his 
friends  upon  condition  that  he  would  remit  it  to  the  most  eloquent 
man  he  met :  it  belongs,  then,  incontestably  to  M.  Dambray. 

"  The  stone  has  not  been  repolished  from  a  feeling  of  respect,  and 
for  fear  of  altering  the  perfect  likeness  of  the  ancient  Cicero  before 
presenting  it  to  the  modern." 

The  next  day  Beaumarchais  had  his  box  returned  to  him, 
with  the  following  letter : 

"  A  little  box  was  remitted  to  me,  sir,  yesterday  evening,  contain- 
ing a  portrait  of  Cicero  very  artistically  engraved  on  a  fine  stone  of 
the  first  quality  after  the  emerald,  as  I  am  informed  in  a  letter  which 
is  far  too  obliging,  and  in  which  the  writer  carries  flattery  so  far  as 
to  compare  me  to  the  Roman  orator ;  I  could  only  attribute  to  the 
enthusiasm  of  a  suitor  who  had  gained  his  action,  and  who  did  not 


AM   miSU    AMAGBAM.  405 

know  me,  a  present  which  suits  me  in  no  respect.  I  examined  my 
servants  to  find  out  the  author,  and  as  what  I  heard  from  my  porter, 
who  recognized  your  lackey,  confirmed  my  first  suspicions,  I  hasten, 
sir,  to  profit  by  the  discovery  to  beg  of  you  to  take  back  a  jewel 
which  proper  delicacy  does  not  permit  me  to  accept. 

"  Under  whatever  form  a  present  be  offered,  it  does  not  cease  to 
be  a  present,  and  a  magistrate  ought  never  to  receive  one. 

"  I  have  the  honor  to  be,  sir,  &c.,  Dambray." 

Beaumarchais  replied  by  protesting  that  the  present  was 
not  from  him ;  but  the  yomig  advocate-general,  convinced  of 
the  contrary,  persisted  in  his  refusal.  This  is  how  Beaumar- 
chais bought  over  the  Parliament  which  had  just  decided 
against  Bergasse.  It  is  true,  however,  as  has  been  said,  that 
if  he  gained  his  action  before  the  tribunal,  he  lost  it  this  time 
before  public  opinion,  and  made  the  fortune  of  Bergasse,  who, 
although  declared  to  be  a  calumniator  in  a  judicial  decision, 
was  indebted  to  this  affair  alone  for  a  brilliant  celebrity,  and 
found  himself  elected  at  once  to  the  Constituent  Assembly, 
where  his  celebrity  was  not  maintained. 

La  Harpe,  while  declaring  himself  indignant  at  the  equally 
odious  and  absurd  calumnies  of  which  Beaumarchais  was  so 
often  the  object,  is  of  opinion  that  he  committed  an  unpardon- 
able action  when  he  allowed  himself,  three  years  after  the  law- 
suit, to  give  the  treacherous  character  in  his  drama  of  "  The 
Guilty  Mother"  the  Irish  name  of  Begearrs,  intended  to  recall 
that  of  Bergasse,  but  which,  in  fact,  recalls  it  slightly  enough ; 
and  the  greater  part  of  Beaumarchais'  biographers  have  me- 
chanically repeated  this  opinion  of  the  celebrated  critic.  La 
Harpe,  who  introduced  into  the  smallest  of  his  literary  quar- 
rels such  bitter  and  obstinate  animosity,  speaks  of  such  mat- 
ters now  quite  at  his  ease.  What!  a  man  to  whom  you 
have  never  done  the  least  harm,  whom  you  do  not  know,  who 
does  not  know  you,  shall  have  outraged  and  calumniated  you 
in  the  most  atrocious  manner  for  two  years ;  he  shall  have 
excited  the  most  ardent  hostility  against  you,  and  you  are  in- 
excusable for  transforming  him  into  the  villain  of  a  melodrama 
under  an  Irish  anagram !  "  In  truth,"  says  Arnault,  with 
reason,  on  this  subject,  "  the  vengeance  was  less  severe  than 
the  outrage  which  had  provoked  it.     I  knew,"  he  adds,  "  Ber- 


406  BEAUMARCHAIS    AND  HIS    TI3IES. 

gasse  and  Beaumarchais :  nothing  could  be  more  opposed  than 
their  dispositions.  They  were  both  eager  for  renown;  they 
obtained  it  in  the  first  instance  through  writings  published  on 
the  occasion  of  a  lawsuit ;  but  Beaumarchais  defended  him- 
self in  his  Memorials,  which  Bergasse  attacked  in  his.  Tor- 
mented by  bile,  Bergasse,  though  decidedly  a  good  sort  of  man, 
was  of  the  most  morose  disposition.  No  one,  on  the  contrary, 
could  be  more  gay  than  Beaumarchais,  who  was,  whatever 
may  be  said,  a  very  honorable  man,  and,  as  every  one  admit- 
ted, one  of  the  most  amiable  that  could  be  met  with." 

This  impartial  testimony  of  Arnault,  writing  forty  years 
after  the  event,  permits  us  at  least  to  conclude  that  if,  indeed, 
Bergasse  was  at  bottom  a  good  sort  of  man,  he  conducted  him- 
self in  this  case  like  an  unjust  and  malicious  one,  which  is  not 
permitted  even  to  the  best  sort  of  men.  Without  reason  and 
without  justice,  through  an  ambition  for  renown,  through  vio- 
lence of  disposition,  he  canied  his  fury  against  Beaumarchais 
to  the  last  extremes  of  invective  and  calumny ;  he  gave  a  cruel 
wound  to  his  reputation,  from  which  it  never  completely  re- 
covered ;  and  when  the  Revolution  broke  out,  the  author  of 
"  The  Marriage  of  Figaro,"  who  might  have  hoped  to  be  re- 
ceived under  the  new  regime  with^  some  favor,  found  the  pe- 
riod of  decadence  and  unpopularity  opening  before  him. 


CHAPTER  XXV. 


"  Tarare." — Beaumarchais'  House  and  Garden. — Napoleon  and  Beau- 
marchais' Daughter. — Mademoiselle  Eugenie. — La  Mere  Coupable. 

The  attacks  of  Bergasse,  which  obliged  Beaumarchais  to 
descend  once  more  into  the  judicial  arena,  surprised  him,  as 
we  have  said,  just  when  he  was  preparing  the  first  representa- 
tion of  an  opera.  This  work,  from  its  singular  title  of  "  Ta- 
rare," and  from  the  general  opinion  that  something  strange 
would  proceed  from  the  co-operation  of  Beaumarchais  and 
Salieri,  the  principal  pupil  of  Gluck,  excited  public  curiosity 
in  the  most  lively  manner.  The  author  of"  The  Marriage  of 
Figaro"  still  preserved  the  privilege  of  dividing  public  atten- 
tion with  the  most  important  events  of  the  day.     "  As  soon 


ORIGIN  OF  "tarabe."  407 

as  it  was  known,"  says  a  journalist  quoted  in  Grimm's  "  Cor- 
respondence,"* "that  the  reheai-sal  of  'Tarare'  had  com- 
menced, all  interest  in  the  great  men  of  the  day,  in  ministerial 
changes,  in  the  provincial  assemblies,  disappeared  before  this 
great  phenomenon.  '  Tarare'  became  the  sole  subject  of  all 
conversations ;  nowhere  was  any  thing  talked  of  but '  Tarare.' " 

The  first  representation  of  "Tarare"  took  place  June  8, 
1787.  "Never,"  says  the  journalist  already  quoted,  "never 
before  did  any  of  our  theatres  see  such  a  crowd  as  that  which 
besieged  all  the  avenues  of  the  opera  the  day  of  the  first  rep- 
resentation of '  Tarare.'  Barriers  raised  expressly  for  the  pur- 
pose, and  protected  by  a  guard  of  four  hundred  men,  scarcely 
sufficed  to  keep  it  in  restraint."  The  reader  sees  that  Beau- 
marchais'  power  of  attracting  the  multitude  had  undergone  no 
diminution;  it  was  rather  increased  than  otherwise  by  the 
noise  of  the  fresh  lawsuit  in  which  he  was  engaged.  This 
time  the  expectation  of  the  public  was  somewhat  deceived : 
"  Tarare"  excited  much  more  surprise  than  admiration.  Nev- 
ertheless, this  work  had  more  success  than  has  been  said,  and 
it  lived  longer  than  is  commonly  supposed. 

The  name  the  author  of  "  Tarare"  borrowed  from  Hamil- 
ton ;  the  rest  of  his  fable  was  taken  to  a  great  extent  from  a 
tale  translated  from  the  Persian,  and  entitled  "  Sadak  and 
Kalasrade ;"  but,  as  Beaumarchais  was  desirous  of  putting 
more  philosophy  into  his  opera  than  the  Persian  author,  he 
started  from  a  higher  point.  In  a  prologue  of  the  most  strange 
kind,  he  undertook  to  show  the  "  Genius  of  the  reproduction 
of  beings  or  Nature,"  occupied  in  concert  with  the  "  Genius 
of  Fire,  which  presides  over  the  Sun,  Nature's  lover,"  in  cre- 
ating beings.  These  two  genii  manufacture  in  succession  the 
different  characters  who  figure  in  the  opera.  After  hesitating 
between  two  shadows,  before  deciding  which  of  them  is  to  be 
king,  the  Genius  of  Fire  "  lays  his  hands  upon  them,"  makes 
one  of  them  the  "  Emperor  Atar,  King  of  Ormus,  despot  of 
Asia,"  and  the  other  an  obscure  soldier.  This  soldier,  who  is 
to  be  "  Tarare,"  is  intended  to  represent  the  triumph  of  virtue 
and  intelligence  over  the  gifts  of  birth  and  chance.     He  will 

*  Vide  Grimm's  "Correspondence,"  June,  1787.  Letter  from  M. 
Pitra  to  one  of  his  friends  at  Lyons  on  the  opera  of  "  Tarare." 


408  BEAUMAKCHAIS    AND    HIS   TIMES. 

find  himself  the  object  of  Atar's  tyranny,  who  takes  his  wife 
away  from  him,  and  wishes  to  kill  him  as  a  reward  for  the 
glory  he  has  acquired  in  fighting  for  him ;  he  will  also  bum 
to  defeat  the  astute  machinations  of  the  chief  of  the  Brahmins. 
He  will  surmount  every  obstacle  by  his  courage,  and  will  raise 
himself  from  the  most  obscure  rank  to  the  highest  point  in 
public  favor.  Like  "  Figaro,"  but  much  more  virtuous  and 
much  more  lively,  and  with  a  turban  and  sabre,  he  will  defend 
his  wife  against  the  attempts  of  King  Atar,  "  a  man  of  fierce 
and  unbridled  passions,"  in  the  words  of  the  programme.  More 
liberally  rewarded  even  than  Figaro,  Tarare  will  be  forced  by 
the  people  to  ascend  the  throne  in  place  of  the  ferocious  Atar, 
who  poisons  himself,  and  all  this  in  order  to  exhibit  with  ad- 
ditional force  the  moral  of  the  poem,  which  is  summed  up  in 
these  four  philosophical  lines,  which  Nature  and  the  Genius 
of  Fire  return  at  the  end  to  sing,  majestically,  in  Beaumarchais' 
words,  but  which  they  must  have  had  some  trouble  in  singing 
melodiously : 

Mortel,  qui  que  tu  sois,  prince,  brahme,  ou  soldat, 
Homme,  ta  grandeur  sur  la  terre 
N'appartient  point  k  ton  etat, 
EUe  est  toute  a  ton  caractere.* 

As  to  the  music,  Beaumarchais  said  to  his  composer,  "  Write 
me  music  which  will  be  subservient  and  not  dominant,  all  its 
effects  being  made  subordinate  to  the  progress  of  my  dialogue 
and  the  interest  of  my  drama."  Salieri  wrote  him  music 
which  was  so  subservient  that  it  became  insignificant,  "  The 
music  of 'Tarare,'"  says  a  contemporary  critic,  "will  add 
nothing  to  the  reputation  of  the  author ;  it  is  generally  con- 
sidered very  inferior  to  that  of  the  '  Danaides.'  The  few  songs 
which  it  contains  are  of  the  most  obvious  and  commonplace  de- 
scription ;  the  recitative  is  almost  always  insipid  and  fatiguing 
from  its  monotony.  Some  of  the  choruses  are  highly  effective, 
and  sometimes  contain  a  melody  which  we  regret  not  to  find 
in  the  songs  and  dance  music.     Two  or  three  morceatix,  such 

*  Mortal,  whoever  thou  art,  prince,  brahmin,  or  soldier, 

Man,  thy  {greatness  on  the  earth 
Does  not  belonj;  to  thy  calling, 
It  is  all  iu  thy  disposition.  ^ 


BEAUMARCHAIS'   HOUSE.  409 

as  that  of  Calpigi  in  the  third  act,  are  really  the  only  agreeable 
things  in  the  music  of  this  opera." 

And,  nevertheless,  this  opera  of  "  Tarare,"  with  its  poor  mu- 
sic and  more  than  mediocre  poetry,  possessed,  from  the  origi- 
nality of  its  construction,  from  its  unexpected,  rapid,  and  sud- 
den scenic  effects,  from  its  combination  of  drama,  comedy, 
fairy-tale,  ballet,  dancing,  philosophy,  and  physics,  a  certain 
peculiar  ensemble  which  did  not  fail  to  gain  a  hold  on  the 
public. 

The  14th  July,  1780,  Beaumarchais  was  occupied  in  build- 
ing in  front  of,  and  very  near  to  the  Bastille,  as  if  in  defiance 
of  this  stronghold,  a  superb  and  charming  dwelling.  He  had 
bought  from  the  city,  in  1787,  all  that  poi'ticn  of  land  which 
now  forms  the  left  line  of  the  boulevard  which  bears  his  name, 
as  you  approach  by  the  Boulevard  St.  Martin,  taking  the  line 
opposite  the  Eue  du  Pas  de  la  Mule,  and  continuing  it  to  the 
Place  de  la  Bastille.  It  was  a  lengthened  rectangular  space 
of  about  one  acre  in  extent,  in  which  he  proposed,  like  Sir 
Walter  Scott,  another  literary  builder,*  "  to  exercise  his  crea- 
tive power  upon  his  mother  Earth,"  and  to  build  a  house  which 
should  have  no  more  resemblance  to  other  houses  than  "  The 
Marriage  of  Figaro"  had  to  other  comedies.  He  succeeded, 
but  not  without  expending  a  great  sum  of  money-  The  archi- 
tect Lemoyne  had  at  first  given  him  a  plan  which  amounted  to 
three  hundred  thousand  francs.  This  primitive  plan  led  him, 
little  by  little,  to  an  expenditure  of  one  million  six  hundred  and 
sixty-three  thousand  francs.  Trust,  then,  to  architects,  especial- 
ly when  they  have  to  do  with  an  imaginative  man  like  Beau- 
marchais, who  desires,  as  he  somewhere  says,  to  build  a  house 

*  Beamnarchais  and  Sir  Walter  Scott  would  not  hare  agreed  with 
the  witty  Voltaire,  who  says,  in  one  of  his  letters,  "  We  great  wits  are 
not  great  builders,  and  we  ground  it  on  the  verses  of  Horace  : 
'  JEdificare  casas,  planstello  adjungere  muros 
Si  quem  delectet  barbatum  insania  verset.' 
"  Monsieur  de  Gombaut  and  I  have  resolved  not  to  build  till  the  times 
return  when  the  stones  put  themselves  one  on  the  other  to  the  sound  of 
the  lyre.     I  do  not  know  if  Apollo  was  disgusted  with  this  business, 
after  being  so  badly  paid  for  the  walls  of  Troy ;  but  it  appears  to  me 
his  favorites  do  not  devote  themselves  to  it,  and  that  their  genius  leads 
them  to  other  things  than  making  large  buildings." 

S 


410  BEAUMABCHAIS    AND   HIS   TIMES. 

that  shall  he  died,  and  who  does  not  look  too  closely  at  the  ex- 
pensive consequences  of  each  embellishment !  When  this  cel- 
ebrated house,  of  which  it  may  be  said  materiam  superabat  qptis, 
was  bought  up  in  1818  for  the  public  convenience,  the  muni- 
cipality, which  considers  very  little  the  artistic  value  of  proper- 
ty, paid  for  this,  to  the  heirs  of  the  author  of  "  The  Marriage 
of  Figaro,"  five  hundred  thousand  francs.  In  this  it  must  be 
again  acknowledged  that  Beaumarchais,  so  often  decried  for 
his  successful  speculations,  was  more  an  artist  than  a  specu- 
lator. 

Madame  de  Beaumarchais  has  preserved  to  us,  in  a  letter  to 
one  of  her  friends,  a  conversation  which  seems  almost  steno- 
graphed, between  the  conqueror  of  Austerlitz  and  the  daughter 
of  the  author  of  "The  Marriage  of  Figai'o"  upon  the  subject 
of  this  house,  which  during  the  Empire  there  was  a  talk  of 
pulling  down  to  lengthen  the  boulevard,  but  which  was  not 
pulled  down  until  the  Restoration.  This  dialogue  took  place 
in  1809,  at  a  fete  given  to  the  Emperor  by  the  city  of  Paris. 

"  It  was  not,"  Madame  de  Beaumarchais  wrote,  "  a  simple  feeling 
of  curiosity  which  induced  my  daughter  to  be  at  the  fete  ;  her  desire 
was  to  speak  to  the  Emperor,  and  to  take  advantage  of  the  circum- 
stance, if  his  majesty  addressed  her,  to  present  to  him  a  petition  rela- 
tive to  our  house,  which  had  been  threatened  with  being  pulled  down 
for  three  3'^ears,  marked  to  be  so  since  the  preceding  year,  and  yet 
whose  fate  remained  uncertain.  My  daughter  has  succeeded ;  the 
Emperor  spoke  to  her.  Here  is  a  part  of  the  dialogue.  '  What  is 
your  name  V  '  I  am  the  daughter  of  Beaumarchais.'  '  Are  you  mar- 
ried ■?'  '  To  M.  Delarne,  one  of  the  administrators  of  excise,  and 
brother-in-law  to  General  Mathieu  Dumas.'  'Have  you  any  chil- 
dren?' 'Two  boys  and  one  girl.'  'Did  your  father  leave  you  his 
large  fortune?'  'No,  sire,  the  Revolution  nearly  ruined  us.'  'Do 
you  live  in  his  beautiful  house  V  This  was  just  the  point  gained.  She 
seized  the  opportunity  with  address  and  wit,  saying  that  was  what 
she  wished  to  call  his  majesty's  attention  to ;  that  she  and  aU  her 
family  were  excessively  injured  by  the  state  of  things  resulting  from 
the  project  the  government  appeared  to  have  adopted ;  that  during 
the  three  years  the  pulling  down  of  our  house  had  been  spoken  of 
we  had  lost  a  great  many  of  our  lodgers ;  that  we  had  thought  it 
right  to  suspend  all  repairs,  which  caused  great  damage  to  the  house, 
and  great  annoyance  to  the  family,  &c.  To  which  the  Emperor  re- 
plied, '  Well,  it  shall  be  valued,  and  you  shall  be  paid  the  aniomit ; 


NAPOLEON   AND   BEAUMAKCHAIS'    DAUGHTER.  411 

but  it  cost  an  immense  sum,  and  we  do  not  pay  for  follies,'  &c.  Dur- 
ing the  whole  time  my  daughter  was  speaking,  as  it  were  in  an  under 
tone,  the  Emperor  leaned  down  and  had  his  head  close  to  the  ivory 
shoulder  of  the  lady,  who  finished  by  giving  the  petition  which  she 
had  provided  herself  with  at  all  risks.  What  gives  us  great  pleasure 
is,  that  we  know  now  what  to  expect,  and  that  my  children  will  act 
in  accordance." 

If,  in  point  of  speculation,  Beaumarchais,  as  Napoleon  said, 
committed  &  folly,  he  succeeded  in  building  a  house  that  per- 
sons went  to  see  as  a  curiosity.  In  coming  by  the  boulevard, 
you  saw  on  the  left,  at  the  end  of  the  Rue  du  Pas  de  la  Mule, 
a  wall  surmounted  by  a  terrace  planted  with  trees,  in  the  style 
of  the  terrace  by  the  side  of  the  water  in  the  garden  of  the 
Tuileries.  At  the  extremity  of  this  terrace  appeared  in  the 
midst  of  trees  a  temple  of  a  round  form,  surmounted  with  a 
dome ;  upon  the  dome  a  little  terrestrial  globe,  bearing  the 
inscription  " orbi"  and  across  it,  in  the  form  of  a  weather- 
cock, a  large  gilt  feather,  which  made  it  turn  with  the  wind. 
On  the  fa9ade  of  the  temple  you  read  these  words — To  Vol- 
taire ;  and  below,  this  line  from  the  "  Henriade :" 
"  n  ote  aux  nations  le  bandeau  de  I'erreur." 

Proceeding  along  the  terrace,  you  reached  the  entrance,  which 
looked  upon  the  boulevard,  and  opened  into  an  immense  spher- 
ical court,  in  the  centre  of  which  was  a  rock  covered  with 
creeping  plants,  and  surmounted  by  a  figure  of  the  Gladiator. 
On  one  side  of  this  court  was  the  house,  presenting  a  semicir- 
cular ya^cK/e,  with  arcades  and  columns,  which,  to  judge  by  a 
drawing  from  which  I  take  this  description,  would  form  an 
original  and  imposing  ensemble ;  at  the  other  end  of  the  court 
was  the  entrance  to  the  garden,  closed  by  an  elegant  gate. 
The  interior  of  the  house  was  arranged  in  the  same  original 
and  sumptuous  style ;  there  were  to  be  remarked  in  it  under- 
ground kitchens,  immense  cellars,  elegant  staircases,  with  bal- 
ustrades of  mahogany  and  brass  rails,  spacious  apartments 
decorated  with  as  much  taste  as  magnificence,  a  billiard-room 
with  seats  for  the  spectators,  a  vast  salon  completely  round, 
lighted  by  one  immense  window  and  by  a  cupola  at  an  eleva- 
tion of  thirty  feet,  a  floor  in  mosaic  of  the  choicest  woods, 
paintings  by  Robert  and  Vernet  in  place  of  tapestry  and  let 


412  BEAUMARCHAIS    AND    HIS   TIMES. 

into  panels,  mantelpieces  of  Carrara  marble  supported  by  cary- 
atides  which  Beaumarchais  had  procured  at  an  immense  ex- 
pense from  Italy,  and  mahogany  doors  with  looking-glass  cen- 
tres.' In  the  cabinet  of  the  author  of  "The  Marriage  of  Fi- 
garo" was  a  secretaire  worth  not  less  than  thirty  thousand 
francs :  it  was  entirely  in  marqueterie,  representing  delightful 
landscapes. 

The  garden,  with  its  terraces,  which  had  caused  the  remo- 
val of  great  quantities  of  soil,  was  designed  and  planted  so  as 
to  disguise  the  limited  space  it  occupied,  and  it  appeared  much 
larger  than  it  was ;  a  wide  carriage-drive  ran  quite  through  it 
to  the  end  of  the  property ;  sloping  downs,  masonry  work, 
masses  of  the  rarest  flowers,  pretty  constructions  placed  with 
art  at  different  distances,  a  piece  of  water  surrounded  by  shady 
trees,  on  which  small  boats  moved  about,  and  wliich  was  sup- 
plied by  a  cascade  from  a  rock — every  where  contrivances 
more  or  less  singular  attracted  the  attention  of  the  visitors. 
For  example,  in  the  middle  of  the  garden  rose  a  temple  to 
Bacchus,  with  a  little  Greek  colonnade.  As  this  temple  was 
intended  for  collations,  it  bore  this  inscription  in  macaronic 
Latin  on  the  pediment : 

"  Erexi  templum  k  Bacchus 
Amicis  que  gourmandibus." 

This  temple  was  raised  upon  another  rock,  whose  sombre 
and  mysterious  entrance  hid  a  gastronomic  laboratory.  Not 
far  from  this  was  a  Chinese  bridge,  with  its  obligato  accom- 
paniment of  bells ;  at  the  side  opened  a  cavern,  which  extend- 
ed to  the  end  of  the  garden,  passing  under  the  piece  of  water, 
a  real  tunnel  of  cut  stone  in  which  an  ice-house  had  been  in- 
troduced, and  which  terminated  in  an  arcade  with  a  railing, 
which  opened  into  the  Rue  Amelot. 

Such  was  the  sumptuous  and  charming  retreat  that  Beau- 
marchais was  preparing  for  his  old  age.  As  he  did  not  in- 
habit it  until  1791,  and  as  it  was  his  destiny  to  attract  the  at- 
tention of  the  curious  in  every  thing  he  did,  which  he  did  not 
dislike,  notwithstanding  the  bitterness  by  which  it  was  some- 
times accompanied,  his  house  was  for  nearly  two  years  a  sort 
of  public  monument,  that  the  Parisians  of  all  classes,  and  the 
provincials  who  came  to  Paris,  thought  themselves  bound  to 


BEAUMAECHAIS   UNPOPULAB.  413 

visit,  SO  much  so  that  the  proprietor  had  tickets  of  admission 
printed,  which  he  gave  to  whoever  asked  for  them  politely. 
Often,  even,  when  the  form  of  the  request  made  it  worth  the 
trouble,  the  author  of  "The  Marriage  of  Figaro"  added  to  the 
admission  asked  for  a  few  lines  of  his  prose,  always  pleasing, 
and  varying  according  to  the  quality  or  sex  of  the  person  who 
applied. 

Now  there  is  not  even  a  trace  of  this  house,  this  garden, 
those  groves,  those  buildings,  those  inscriptions,  arranged  Avith 
so  much  care  and  love.  All  this  was  not  to  last  even  thirty 
years.  It  was  useless  to  build  and  plant  so  much.  The 
smallest  piece  of  paper  scrawled  on  by  the  author  of  "The 
Marriage  of  Figaro"  has  been  more  durable  than  his  monu- 
ment. 

From  the  14th  of  July,  Beaumarchais  had  a  presentiment 
of  the  new  dangers  which  awaited  him.  He  had  seen  with 
gladness  the  convocation  of  the  States-G-eneral ;  he  had  hoped 
that  thus,  without  too  great  a  shock,  the  regeneration  of  France 
might  be  attained  by  a  constitution  limiting  the  royal  power, 
and  the  destruction  of  those  abuses  which  he,  for  his  part,  had 
so  warmly  attacked.  Gudin  informs  us,  in  his  manuscript, 
that  on  this  point  Beaumarchais  had  greater  illusions  than 
himself,  and  frequently  combated  his  mistrust.  "Do  not 
alarm,"  he  said,  "  those  minds  that  the  firm  hope  of  a  gi'eat 
amelioration  can  sustain  in  the  astonishing  career  which  is 
opening  befoijs  us."  Feeling  himself  under  the  weight  of  a  vi- 
olent unpopularity,  caused  by  his  recent  quarrel  with  Bergasse, 
the  author  of  "  The  Mannage  of  Figaro"  did  not  solicit  the 
functions  of  deputy,  and  kept  at  a  distance  observing  events. 
Soon  the  foolish  resistance  of  the  court,  and  a  part  of  the  priv- 
ileged orders  to  the  just  wishes  of  the  tiers  etat,  led  to  the  first 
popular  coup  d'etat,  which  inaugurated  in  France  the  disastrous 
and  immoral  regime  of  coups  cVe'tats  of  all  shades.  Beaumar- 
chais saw  the  fall  of  the  Bastille  from  his  yet  unfinished  home. 
In  the  troubles  of  that  day  and  the  following  one,  he  figured 
as  the  president  of  the  district  des  Blancs-Manteaux,  occupied 
in  maintaining  order  in  his  quarter,  and  preserving  some  dis- 
armed soldiers  from  the  fury  of  the  people — a  constant  and 
uniform  incident  in  revolutions.     Here  is  the  letter  he  writes 


414  BEAUMAKCHAIS   AND   HIS   TIMES. 

to  a  captain  of  the  regiment  of  Salis-AUemand  on  sending  him 
back  one  of  his  soldiers,  a  note  in  which  is  painted  both  the 
^agitation  of  the  moment  and  the  true  political  sentiments  of 
Beaumarchais,  at  least  at  that  epoch. 

"Wednesday,  July  15, 1789. 

"  In  returning  to  my  house,  sir,  I  add  to  the  good  I  have  been 
happy  enough  to  accompUsh,  that  of  preventing  your  soldier  from 
setting  out  in  broad  day  ;  he  would  be  torn  to  pieces.  I  have  had  a 
great-coat  and  a  hat  belonging  to  one  of  my  people  given  to  him, 
which  you  will  return  to  me.  I  have  made  him  also  take  off  his 
gaiters,  that  nothing  may  cause  his  recognition. 

"  A  grenadier  of  the  French  guards,  full  of  humanity,  promises  me 
to  protect  him  to  the  barrier. 

"  God  save  the  king,  and  restore  him  to  his  people,  who,  in  the 
midst  of  their  fury,  have  not  lost  a  religious  respect  for  this  sacred 
name.     Every  thing  else  is  broken  up. 

"  I  salute  you,  monsieur.  Caron  de  Beaumarchais, 

"  President  of  the  District  des  Blancs-Manteaux 
at  the  present  time." 

During  the  following  day  Beaumarchais  was  commissioned, 
at  his  own  request,  by  the  mayor  of  Paris,  to  superintend  the 
demolition  of  the  Bastille,  that  it  might  be  effected  without 
obstructing  the  great  sewer  close  to  it,  or  damaging  the  neigh- 
boring houses.  A  short  time  afterward  he  was  named  by  the 
electors  of  his  district  member  of  the  municipal  body,  which 
was  then  called  the  representation  of  the  commune ;  but  de- 
nunciations already  showered  upon  him.  All  his  adversaries 
in  his  different  lawsuits,  especially  in  the  last,  and  all  whom 
his  riches  irritated,  denounced  him  to  the  fury  of  the  mob  as 
uttering  "  uncivic"  sentiments,  or  as  storing  up  corn  or  arms. 
His  house,  placed  at  the  very  entrance  of  that  terrible  fau- 
bourg, the  headquarters  of  insurrection,  appeared  a  sort  of 
insolent  invitation  which  naturally  called  for  the  visits  of  the 
people.  In  avoiding  these  dangerous  visits  Beaumarchais 
passed  his  life :  at  one  time  asking  for  official  visits  either  from 
the  districts  or  from  the  municipality,  and  placarding  all  over 
the  quarter  the  result  of  these  visits,  stating  uniformly  that 
nothing  suspicious  had  been  found  in  his  house;  at  another 
time  distributing  around  him  as  much  money  as  possible,  for 
disorder  and  misery  walk  together,  and  in  proposing  to  the 


MADEMOISELLE   EUGENIe's   KOUND.  415 

municipality  all  kinds  of  charitable  institutions.  In  truth,  he 
did  all  this  good  rather  openly ;  his  left  hand  was  not  entirely 
ignorant  of  what  his  right  hand  was  doing ;  but  who  can  bring 
that  as  a  crime  against  him  when  he  had  only  this  means  of 
protecting  himself  against  the  most  unjust  and  formidable  un- 
popularity? All  his  troubles,  all  his  personal  dangers,  did 
not  prevent  him  from  following,  with  great  attention,  the  prog- 
ress of  public  affairs,  nor  from  speaking  his  mind,  every  time 
the  opportunity  presented  itself,  with  a  frankness  which  was 
not  without  courage. 

Tlie  author  of  "  The  Marriage  of  Figaro"  adored  his  only 
daughter.  This  good  fatherly  disposition  of  his,  so  simple,  so 
affectionate,  so  cheerful,  and  which  makes  us  love  him,  is  es- 
pecially seen  in  an  old  French  round,  in  which  he  celebrates 
the  return  of  his  daughter  Eugenie  to  the  paternal  roof.  This 
round  has  already  been  noticed  as  a  charming  composition  by 
an  excellent  judge.*  It  is,  perhaps,  indeed  the  happiest  of 
Beaumarchais'  poetic  inspirations.  The  artless  turn  of  the 
old  popular  songs  appears  in  it  with  a  mixture  of  graceful 
amenity,  wit,  and  gayety. 

The  couplets  being  spread  abroad,  spread  at  the  same  time 
the  idea  that  the  only  daughter  of  the  author  of  "  The  Mar- 
riage of  Figaro,"  a  charming  person  and  a  rich  heiress,  was 
marriageable,  and  that  her  father  was  only  desirous  of  choos- 
ing a  husband  by  the  merit  of  the  competitors.  Now,  as  the 
number  of  persons  who  possess  nothing  but  merit  is  always 
very  great,  Beaumarchais  had  offers  of  man-iage  submitted  to 
him  in  1791  of  a  most  singular  description.  At  one  time  a 
gentleman  who  does  not  value  his  coat  of  arms,  who  despises 
the  fortune  he  no  longer  possesses,  and  who  esteems  virtue 
only,  desires  to  marry  Mademoiselle  Eugenie  and  her  portion ; 
elsewhere  a  father  quite  unknown  to  Beaumarchais  begs  him 
to  keep  his  daughter  for  his  son,  who  is  still  at  school ;  then, 
again,  comes  a  captain  who  has  but  his  sword,  but  it  is  worth 
the  baton  of  a  marshal  of  France.  To  scatter  politely  this 
crowd  of  virtuous  and  disinterested  would-be  husbands,  the 
father  of  Mademoiselle  Eugenie  wrote  a  letter,  which  served 
him  for  nearly  all  them,  excepting  some  slight  modifications. 

*  M.  Saint-Marc  Girardin,  in  his  "  Notice  sur  Beaumarchais." 


41G  BEAUMAKCHAIS  ANI>  HIS  TIMES. 

Here  is  a  copy  of  it,  addressed  to  a  poor,  but  good  and  brave 
officer. 

"  Paris,  May  21,  1791. 

"  Although  your  letter,  sir,  appears  to  have  its  origin  in  a  piece  of 
pleasantry,  as  it  is  written  with  earnest  civility,  I  owe  it  an  answer. 
You  have  been  deceived  respecting  ray  daughter  ;  scarcely  fourteen, 
she  is  yet  far  from  the  time  when  I  shall  leave  her  mistress  to  choose 
herself  a  master.  Perhaps  you  are  ignorant  of  the  circumstances 
■which  have  led  to  your  proposal.  I  have  very  lately  taken  my  daugh- 
ter from  her  convent.  My  joy  at  her  return  having  extracted  a  roundT 
from  my  idleness,  after  having  been  sung  at  my  table,  it  has  been  cir- 
culated every  where.  •  The  jovial,  Gallic,  civic  tone  introduced  into 
it,  joined  to  the  jesting  about  the  future  establishment  of  my  daugh- 
ter, has  made  many  persons  fancy  I  already  thought  of  such  a  thing ; 
but  may  Minerva  preserve  me  from  engaging  her  before  the  age 
when  her  heart  will  be  given  with  a  knowledge  of  what  it  imports  I 
The  convent  has  completed  her  physical  education ;  it  is  for  me  to 
complete  her  moral  education  before  giving  her  up  to  her  own  feel- 
ings in  so  serious  a  case  as  one  that  wOl  bind  her  for  life.  This, 
sir,  is  not  the  business  of  a  few  months,  but  of  years. 

"  What  my  round  has  said  in  joke  will  be  certainly  my  rule  lor  en- 
lightening her  young  heart.  Fortune  will  have  less  effect  on  me 
than  talents  and  virtue,  for  my  wish  is  that  she  may  be  happy.  A 
long  line  of  ancestors  is  ceasing  to  have  any  signification ;  no  living 
being  exists  without  ancestors ;  and  as  for  those  who  were  noble, 
henceforth  they  will  not  influence  the  fate  of  their  descendants ;  each 
will  be  what  he  is  worth  ;  thus  the  law,  the  Constitution,  and  reason 
will  have  it  to  be.  Ah !  reason  above  alI,-so  much  insulted  by  our 
Gothic  institutions. 

"  I  send  you,  monsieur,  my  rather  jocular  round,  and  if  you  sing 
it,  you  will  sometimes  say,  '  The  good  old  man  loved  his  daughter 
dearly,  and  was  not  in  his  dotage.'  Receive  my  thanks  for  all  the 
obliging  things  by  which  you  have  deigned  to  honor  me,  and  the  sin- 
cere wishes  of  the  husbandman  Beaumarchais." 

We  have  just  seen  in  this  letter  that  Beaumarchais  thought 
very  little  of  titles  of  nobility  ;  however,  when  the  Constitu- 
tional Assembly  abolished  them,  and  decreed  that  each  individ- 
ual should  be  reduced  to  his  primitive  name,  or  should  sup- 
press his  particle,  the  author  of  "  The  Marriage  of  Figaro" 
speaks  of  this  decree  •with  a  raillery  through  which  peeps  a 
little  ill-humor.  After  that,  although  his  titles,  for  which  he 
had  the  receipt,  were  of  a  more  modern  date  than  those  of 
Mirabeau,  he  could,  without  mucli  presumption,  imitate  the 


THE  ladies'  club.  417 

speech  of  the  celebrated  orator  to  the  journalists,  who,  in  obe- 
dience to  the  decree,  named  him  Riquetti :  "  With  your  Ri- 
quetti  you  have  confused  Europe  during  three  days."  It  was 
certiiinly  necessary  for  the  public  to  have  some  days  to  accus- 
tom themselves  to  recognize  Beaumai-chais  in  Caron.  It  was 
to  his  wife,  who  was  then  at  the  waters  of  Saint- Amand,  that 
the  ex-secretary  of  the  king  transmitted  his  impressions  upon 
the  decree  of  the  Constituent  Assembly,  in  a  letter  of  the  22d 
June,  1790,  from  which  I  extract  the  following  passages : 

"  What  is  to  become  of  us,  my  dear  ?  Now,  we  are  to  lose  all  our 
dignities.  Reduced  to  our  family  names,  without  armorial  bearings 
and  without  liveries !  Just  heaven !  W^hat  ruin  !  I  dined  the  day 
before  yesterday  with  Madame  de  la  Reyniere,  and  we  called  her,  to 
her  face,  Madame  Grimod,  short,  and  without  a  handle.  Mgr.  the 
Bishop  of  Rodez,  and  Mgr.  the  Bishop  of  Agen,  were  addressed  as 
monsieur ;  each  was  called  by  his  name ;  it  was  like  leaving  a  ball 
at  the  Opera  in  winter  when  every  body  is  unmasked. 

"  I  wrote  this  morning  to  Madame  la  Comtesse  de  Choiseul-Gouf- 
fier.  I  said, '  Until  July  14, 1  will  give  you,  madame,  from  respect 
to  your  rights,  the  title  of  countess,  but  afterward  you  will  have  to 
thank  me  for  it,  if  you  please  ;  it  will  be  pure  courtesy ' 

"  I  send  you,  in  the  original,  an  invitation  to  a  female  club  that  I 
received  for  you  yesterday.  I  replied  that  you  were  at  the  waters, 
but  that  you  joined  in  their  intentions ;  that  at  least  I  presumed  so  ; 
and  I  have  addressed  my  answer  to  Madame  la  Secretaire.  I  think 
the  14th  will  be  the  finest  thing  ever  seen.*  But  Louis  XIV.,  on 
the  14th,  will  be  stripped  like  the  rest  of  the  great.  No  more  slaves 
at  his  feet  in  the  Place  des  Victoires.  Ah !"  but  what  destruction  ! 
To  leave  the  good  Henri  IV.  his  four  chained  statues,  we  assert  they 
are  four  vices ;  they  dispute  it  with  us,  but  we  do  not  give  up  the 
point 

"  I  showed  on  Sunday  that  I  had  no  more  possessions  which  bore 
the  name  of  Beaumarchais,  and  that  the  decree  clearly  stated  that 
persons  should  no  longer  retain  their  noms  de  terre,  but  that  nothing 
ought  to  be  taken  from  the  noms  de  guerre,  and  it  was  always  under 
that  name  I  had  vanquished  my  cowardly  enemies " 

By  the  side  of  this  firiendly  letter,  in  which  the  author  seems 
to  be  speaking  w  th  a  smile  on  his  lips,  of  the  14th  July,  and 
of  all  the  excitements  of  the  time,  I  find  one  in  a  solemn  tone, 
addressed  to  the  president  of  the  National  Guard,  which  is 

*  He  alludes  to  the  14th  Julv,  the  day  of  the  Federation. 

S'2 


418  BEAUMARCHAIS    AND   HIS   TIMES. 

nothing  less  than  a  proposition  to  raise  on  the  Champ  de  Mars 
a  monument  on  a  gigantic  plan. 

"In  the  midst  of  this  immense  circle,"  he  writes,  "  upon  a 
square  piece  of  ground  210  feet  in  extent,  I  raise  a  triumphal 
column  to  Truth  148  feet  high,  to  the  base  of  which  you  ar- 
rive by  a  flight  of  forty  steps  120  feet  long,  on  each  side  of 
the  square,  &c.  All  the  remainder  is  in  the  same  proportion. 
I  remark  in  it,  among  other  pleasing  things,  four  guard-houses, 
which,  united  by  subterranean  galleries,  might  serve  during 
the  fetes  as  a  reserve  for  the  national  guards,  and  contain  seven 
or  eight  thousand  men."  This  civic  embellishment  seems  to 
me  to  indicate  that  the  spirit  of  order  and  conservation  never 
forsook  Beaumarchais. 

Sometimes  the  political  anxieties  of  the  author  of  "The 
Marriage  of  Figaro"  were  expressed  with  a  fervor,  through 
which  was  seen  a  noble  and  sincere  sentiment ;  thus,  in  the 
last  days  of  the  Constituent  Assembly,  at  the  very  time  when 
this  assembly  was  destroying  itself  by  its  imprudence,  and  con- 
suming its  last  days  in  the  midst  of  miserable  conflicts,  Beau- 
marchais, writing  on  the  10th  September,  1791,  to  one  of  the 
most  honorable  members  of  the  majority,  Beaumetz,  with 
whom  he  was  connected,  exclaims,  "  Who  could  have  believed 
that  the  end  of  so  great  a  work  would  be  dishonored  by  such 
vile  debates,  and  that  we  should  give  to  our  enemies,  without 
and  within,  the  triumph  of  seeing  our  Constitution  almost 
crumble  away  at  the  time  when  we  ought  to  be  gi\'ing  it  a 
solid  standing  1  Miserable  interest,  and  still  more  miserable 
ambition,  which  renders  our  legislators  the  laughing-stock  of 
those  who  took  a  pleasure  in  respecting  them.  And  M.  de 
Bouille,  and  M.  de  Calonne,  and  M.  d'Autichamp,  raise  the 
spirits  of  their  party  by  showing  them  what  strength  our  di- 
visions give  them.  While  you  are  leaving  all  our  aflfairs  in 
disorder,  is  it  the  Legislature  of  lawyers  which  we  are  form- 
ing by  these  cabals  that  will  re-establish  them  ?" 

The  future  did  not  always  appear  to  Beaumarchais  under 
so  sombre  an  aspect,  to  judge  by  the  more  cheerful  picture 
that  he  addressed  to  a  Russian  prince  at  St.  Petersburg,  No- 
vember 12,  1791.  Perhaps  national  pride  induced  him  to 
represent  things  as  a  little  better  than  he  thought  them. 


OCEKSE   OF    THE   TI31ES.  419 

"  The  Revolution,"  he  wrote, "  has  had  a  great  influence  upon  lit- 
erature. Free  nations  generally  lose  in  grace  what  they  acquire  in 
strength,  and  our  theatre  is  affected  by  the  new  spirit  in  France. 
All  occupied  by  great  interests,  and  become  half  republican,  we  can 
no  longer  mould  ourselves  to  the  effeminate  literature  suitable  to  the 
ancien  regime ;  but  it  must  be  confessed  that,  in  trying  to  straighten 
our  tree,  we  have  made  it  bend  in  the  opposite  direction. 

"  Hard  words,  which  drive  away  the  Muses,  are  in  our  actors' 
mouths.  We  have  strong  castles  instead  of  palaces,  and  cannons  for 
an  orchestra.  The  rue  takes  the  place  of  the  nielle ;  where  we 
once  heard  sighs,  we  now  hear  the  cry  of  liberty ;  and  Live  free  or 
die  in  place  of  I  adore  you.  These  arc  our  plays  and  amusements. 
It  is  Athens  the  pleasing  a  little  changed  into  Sparta  the  stern ;  but 
the  pleasing  being  our  element,  the  return  of  peace  will  restore  our 
character,  only  with  more  Tiger  added  to  it ;  our  gayety  will  regain 
the  upper  hand." 

While  thus  giving  himself  up  to  the  observation  and  appre- 
ciation of  public  affairs,  Beaumarchais  continued  his  epistolary 
intercourse  with  the  insulters,  the  beggars,  the  schemers,  who 
besieged  him,  as  in  times  past,  but  not  without  some  fresh 
characteristic  of  the  license  of  the  times. 

We  will  give  one  slight  specimen  of  the  degree  of  efirontery 
which  a  rogue  can  use  in  exercising  his  calling;  it  is  one 
among  many  of  the  same  kind  that  Beaumarchais  received  in 
1790. 

"  Sir, — I  have  just  bought  a  manuscript  which  is  entitled  '  Con- 
fessions of  M.  de  Beaumarchais.'  This  pamphlet  may  contain  about 
five  sheets  in  octavo.  I  am  ready  to  have  it  printed,  but  I  should  be 
sorry  to  make  the  pamphlet  public,  as  it  would  bring  you  a  great 
many  enemies.  I  purchased  it  for  six  louis ;  several  persons  have 
offered  me  a  profit  of  six  louis  on  it ;  and,  if  I  allow  it  to  be  printed, 
I  can  not  say  of  what  advantage  it  may  be  to  me.  Therefore,  sir, 
consider  if  you  would  like  to  arrange  with  me.  Make  me  any  offer 
you  may  like,  and  depend  upon  my  zeal  and  discretion. 

"  As  I  am  bargaining  for  the  printing,  I  beg  you  to  give  me  an  an- 
swer by  Tuesday  evening.  Address  the  letter  to  M.  Bunel,  chez 
Mademoiselle  Bondidier,marchande  lingere,Rue  Comtesse  d'Artois." 

Here  is  Beaumarchais'  short  but  expressive  answer : 

"  I  would  not  give  six  liards  to  prevent  a  libel  upon  myself  seeing 
the  day,  but  I  would  willingly  give  six  louis  to  him  who  would  bring 
me  the  ears  of  the  scoundrel  who  has  written  it,  and  six  more  for 
those  of  the  wretch  who  is  going  to  print  it ;  and,  as  every  work  mer- 


420  BEAUilAECIlAIS   AND    HIS   TIMES. 

its  its  reward,  I  am  going  to  give  up  Sieur  Bunel's  letter,  that  he 
may  receive  his  from  the  national  justice  when  his  libel  appears. 

"  Beaumarchais." 
Then  comes  a  very  clever  man,  M.  Simonnet,  who  has  de- 
voted himself  to  wonderful  calculations  upon  the  chances  in 
lotteries,  and  who  pursues  Beaumarchais  with  marvelous  plans, 
forjwhich  he  requires  funds.  The  author  of  "The  Marriage 
of  Figaro"  very  benevolently  takes  the  trouble  to  set  his  mind 
right,  or,  at  all  events,  to  show  him  he  is  not  his  dupe, 

"  I  have  passed  my  life,  sir,"  he  writes  to  him, "  in  gaining  from 
the  lottery  all  the  money  I  have  not  put  into  it,  and  I  congratulate 
myself  upon  it  every  day.  In  giving  a  critical  and  strict  glance  at 
these  frightful  establishments  of  lotteries,  hot-beds  of  all  the  evils  of 
the  people,  which  only  serve  to  fill  the  hospitals  and  prisons,  I  find 
that  the  lottery  which  is  so  improperly  named  royal,  and  which  ought 
to  be  named  infernal,  is  carried  on,  so  that  the  least  fatal  manner  of 
striking  is  certainly  on  ihe  extraits  ;  but  even  then,  if  you  placed  at 
each  drawing  twenty  sous  on  each  number,  you  would  have  expend- 
ed ninety  livres.  You  would  always  gain  the  five  extrails,  or  five 
times  fifteen  for  yourself — that  is  to  say,  seventy-five  francs — from 
which  it  results  that  the  smallest  loss  that  could  be  sustained  at  this 
infamous  game  is  fifteen  out  of  ninety,  under  the  most  favorable  hy- 
pothesis. I  should  pity  you,  sir,  for  having  a  mania  for  this  game 
if  you  had  funds  to  chance  in  it,  but  as  you  only  solicit  them  else- 
where, the  only  danger  that  you  run  is  the  grief  of  having  drawn  into 
your  ruinous  speculations  those  who  might  commit  the  folly  of  yield- 
ing to  them.     I  salute  you  frankly. 

"  Caron  Beaumarchais." 

The  ordinary  be^ng  letter-writers  have  not  the  same  char- 
acteristics they  had  before  the  Revolution.  Repulsed,  they 
return  to  the  charge,  write  insulting  and  threatening  letters ; 
and  Beaumarchais,  who  had  already  so  many  enemies  on  his 
shoulders  that  he  did  not  wish  to  increase  the  number,  while 
he  gave  to  some,  passed  a  part  of  his  life  in  proving  as  elo- 
quently as  possible  that  he  could  not  give  to  others. 

In  the  midst  of  preoccupations,  and  of  the  various  disqui- 
etudes of  which  we  have  just  sketched  a  picture,  Beaumarchais 
found  time  to  give  himself  up  to  the  two  passions  which  occu- 
pied so  much  of  his  life — the  theatre  and  state  speculation. 
He  wrote  his  drama  of  "La  Mere  Coupable,"  and  engaged  to 
supply  tho  Frc ncli  government  with  sixty  thousand  guns. 


BEAUMAKCHAIS   AFTER   THE    IOtH   AUGUST.  421 

Let  US  speak  of  the  drama  before  the  affair  of  the  guns, 
which  forms  also  a  kind  of  drama,  in  which  the  hero  will  be 
seen  fearfully  victimized. 

Finished  in  January,  1791,  "La  Mere  Coupable"  was  read 
in  February,  and  accepted  at  the  Theatre-Fran^aise ;  but  at 
this  time  there  was  going  on  between  the  authors  and  actors 
that  eternal  lawsuit  of  which  we  have  already  spoken,  and 
which  the  Legislature,  like  the  Constituent  Assembly,  decided 
in  favor  of  the  authors.  Beaumarchais,  intrusted  by  the  lat- 
ter to  defend  their  interests,  did  so  with  a  sincerity  that 
caused  a  rupture  between  the  Theatre-Franc^aise  and  himself. 
A  new  company,  which,  with  his  support,  had  just  opened  a 
theatre  in  his  neighborhood,  in  the  Marais,  solicited  his  piece, 
and  it  was  represented  for  the  first  time  at  this  theatre  the  Gth 
of  June,  1792.  Weakly  played  at  first,  it  had  but  little  suc- 
cess; afterward  revived  by  the  French  comedians,  in  May, 
1797,  it  completely  succeeded ;  and  e.ven  now,  when  it  is  rep- 
resented by  skillful  actors,  it  produces  a  lively  impression  on 
the  public. 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 


Beaumarchais  after  the  10th  August. — His  60,000  Guns. — His  Lawsuit. 
— The  Convention. 

At  the  same  time  that  Beaumarchais  gave  his  last  piece  to 
the  theatre,  he  embarked  in  a  new  patriotic  and  commercial 
•vyork,  which  was  to  ruin  his  fortune,  and  be  the  torment  of 
his  latter  days. 

France  wanted  arras  in  1792 :  he  undertook  to  procure 
them.  One  can  scarcely  understand  how  a  man  sixty  years 
of  age,  rich,  worn  out  by  a  most  stormy  life,  afflicted  by  con- 
tinually increasing  deafness,  surrounded  by  enemies,  and  only 
wishing  for  repose,  could  be  induced  to  encumber  himself  with 
the  task  of  bringing  into  France  60,000  guns,  which  were  de- 
tained in  Holland  under  circumstances  that  rendered  the  work 
as  dangerous  as  it  was  difficult. 

In  reflecting  on  Beaumarchais'  decided  taste  for  dangerous 


422  BEAU>XAKCHAIS    AND    HIS   TI3IES. 

speculations,  provided  they  presented  a  certain  character  of 
public  interest,  we  must,  I  think,  in  looking  for  the  cause  of 
this  rash  enterprise,  seek  it  in  his  unpopularity  at  the  time. 
"  I  told  him,"  Gudin  relates  in  his  manuscript  on  this  subject, 
"  that  a  wise  man  in  revolutionary  times  did  not  trade  in  arms 
or  corn  ;  but  my  prudence  was  false  ;  in  these  times  of  disor- 
der and  uncertainty,  they  would  have  made  it  a  crime  on  his 
part  to  have  refused  to  procure  the  arms  they  had  requested 
of  him.  His  refusal  would  have  been  considered  disaiFection ; 
he  had  but  a  choice  of  dangers ;  he  exposed  himself  to  the 
peril  of  being  useful  to  his  country." 

At  the  commencement  of  1792,  a  Belgian  came  and  offered 
him  60,000  guns,  obtained  from  the  disarming  of  the  Low 
Countries,  deposited  in  Holland,  and  sold  by  Austria,  who, 
foreseeing  a  war  with  France,  had  stipulated  that  the  pur- 
chaser should  send  them  to  the  colonies.  Beaumarchais  trans- 
mitted the  proposition  to  the  minister  of  war,  De  Grave,  who 
employed  him  to  bring  the  guns  into  France  secretly,  promis- 
ing to  pay  a  suitable  price,  and  to  advance  him  500,000  francs 
in  assignats,  worth  then  about  three  hundred  thousand  francs; 
but  the  minister  obliged  him  to  deposit  securities  to  the  amount 
of  745,000  francs  guaranteed  by  the  city  of  Paris. 

Beaumarchais  obtained  the  promise  that,  if  he  wanted  more 
money  for  the  transport  of  the  arms,  they  would  remit  him  on 
a  part  of  the  surplus  445,000  francs  left  as  a  deposit  with  the 
minister.  The  government  also  promised  to  use  all  its  power 
to  overcome  the  resistance  of  the  Dutch  government,  which, 
fearing  to  embroil  itself  with  Austria,  detained  them  at  Ter- 
vere,  a  port  of  Zealand.  War  soon  broke  out  between  Aus- 
tria and  Prussia ;  Beaumarchais  was  not  less  ardent  in  asking 
for  assistance  in  overcoming  the  resistance  of  Holland,  with 
which  they  were  still  at  peace ;  but,  during  the  last  year  of 
the  monarchy  of  Louis  XVI.,  ministers  succeeded  each  other 
with  the  rapidity  of  lightning.  It  was  in  vain  that  Beaumar- 
chais assailed  them.  "I  have  tired  out"  he  said,  "in  a  few 
months,  fourteen  or  fifteen  of  them :"  he  could  not  obtain  their 
support  in  Holland,  nor  the  money  promised  from  the  overplus 
of  his  deposit  to  transport  these  unfortunate  guns  ;  and  while 
he  exhausted  himself  in  efforts,  his  enemies  spread  the  report 


BEAUMAKCHAIS    DENOUKCED    BY    CHABOT.  423 

among  the  people  that  the  guns  were  at  his  house,  that  he  had 
them  in  cellars,  and  kept  them  to  massacre  the  patriots.  Noth- 
ing more  was  necessary  to  make  them  massacre  him.  The 
ex-Capuchin  Chabot,  a  member  of  the  Legislative  Assembly, 
denounced  him  to  the  tribune  as  concealing  arms  in  a  very 
suspicious  place.  Beaiimarchais,  always  true  to  his  charac- 
ter, told  Chabot  that  he,  Chabot,  would  be  twenty  times  more 
to  be  suspected  than  the  place,  if  he  did  not  point  it  out.  The 
following  day,  August  10th,  the  people  went  in  crowds  to  iiis 
beautiful  house  on  the  boulevard,  and  searched  it  from  top  to 
bottom,  without,  however,  taking  away  a  pin.  In  the  midst 
of  this  frightful  scene,  which  the  author  of  "  The  Marriage  of 
Figaro"  describes  at  length  in  a  letter  already  published,  ad- 
dressed to  his  daughter,  whom  he  had  just  sent  with  her  moth- 
er to  Havre,  he  is  seen  preserving  sufficient  coolness  to  study 
the  unruly  people,  and  to  "admire,"  he  says,  "that  mixture 
of  wildness  and  natural  justice  which  appears  through  all  the 
disorder."  Some  days  afterward,  although  he  had  taken  care 
to  publish  every  where,  according  to  his  custom,  that  the  peo- 
ple had  found  nothing  suspicious  at  his  house,  he  was  arrest- 
ed, and  conducted  to  the  Abbaye,  the  23d  of  August.  He 
was  there  on  the  30th — that  is  to  say,  two  days  before  the 
massacre  of  September — when  it  suddenly  came  into  the  head 
of  the  procurator  of  the  commune,  Manuel,  to  remember  that 
he  had  had  some  quarrels  with  Beaumarchais,  in  which  the 
latter  had  wittily  ridiculed  him  ;  and  he  thought  it  would  be 
a  noble  revenge  to  take  him  out  of  prison.  Let  us  add,  to  be 
exact,  that  it  was  a  woman  to  whom  Beaumarchais  had  ren- 
dered a  service,  and  who  had  some  influence  over  Manuel,  that 
decided  him  to  this  act  of  generosity.  However,  on  the  30th, 
Manuel  told  his  old  adversary  that  he  was  free.  Beaumar- 
chais did  not  wait  to  be  told  this  twice  ;  he  left,  and  the  next 
morning  but  one  the  massacre  began. 

It  would  seem  natural  enough,  at  such  a  moment,  that  the 
author  of  "The  Marriage  of  Figaro"  should  put  his  guns  aside 
to  occupy  himself  especially  with  the  preservation  of  his  per- 
son ;  but,  in  becoming  deaf,  he  had  acquired  some  of  the  ob- 
stinacy which  is  said  to  accompany  that  infirmity.  He  con- 
sented to  hide  himself,  but  only  during  the  day,  a  few  miles 


424  BEAUMAKCHAIS  AND    HIS    TIMES. 

from  Paris.  Each  night  he  returned  on  foot,  across  plowed 
fields,  to  avoid  unpleasant  meetings,  and  went  to  claim  of  the 
ministers  the  fulfillment  of  their  predecessors'  engagements, 
and  to  assist  him  in  obtaining  from  Holland  the  G0,000  guns 
he  had  promised  the  nation.  It  must  also  be  said,  to  explain 
his  pertinacity,  that  it  being  known  that  he  was  the  agent  in 
this  aflfair  placed  him  in  a  state  of  continued  suspicion  with 
the  people  until  he  had  succeeded  ;  and  also,  that  he  thought 
he  saw  that  the  minister  Lebrun  was  going  to  work  the  aifair 
secretly,  for  his  own  profit,  leaving  to  him,  in  case  of  necessi- 
ty, all  the  responsibihty  of  a  failure.  This  was  what  render- 
ed him  so  tenacious  that  he  fatigued  and  wore  out  even  Dan- 
ton,  who  could  not  avoid  laughing  to  see  a  man  who  was  so 
compromised,  and  who  ought  to  think  of  nothing  but  his  safe- 
ty, persevere,  the  day  after  the  massacre  of  September,  in  com- 
ing every  evening  to  ask  for  what  they  still  owed  on  his  de- 
posit, and  a  mission  to  Holland. 

At  length,  after  the  deliberation  of  a  commission  of  the 
Legislative  Assembly,  called  the  Commission  of  Arms,  which 
declared  Beaumarchais  had  deserved  well  of  the  nation,  and 
insisted  of  the  executive  power  that  he  should  be  put  in  a  po- 
sition to  finish  the  enterprise,  the  minister  Lebrun  gave  him  a 
passport  for  Holland,  promising  to  remit  to  him  at  the  Hague 
the  necessary  money  to  raise  the  embargo  the  Dutch  govern- 
ment had  laid  on  the  guns.  The  minister  also  declared  to 
him  that  the  French  embassador  at  the  Hague  would  be  di- 
rected to  give  his  assistance  to  his  operations.  Upon  the 
faith  of  this  promise  of  the  minister,  Beaumarchais  set  out  for 
Holland,  and  in  passing  through  London  he  borrowed,  at  all 
hazards,  a  large  sum  of  an  English  merchant,  his  correspond- 
ent and  friend.  Arrived  at  the  Hague,  he  found  the  French 
minister  without  instructions  respecting  him,  and  without 
money;  besides  which,  he  found  himself  crossed  in  all  his 
transactions  by  the  secret  agents  of  the  minister  Lebrun,  who 
had  already  had  him  imprisoned  at  the  Abbaye  on  the  eve  of 
the  massacre  of  September.  Vainly  he  wrote  from  Holland 
letter  upon  letter  to  Lebrun,  to  remind  him  of  his  promises. 
Lebrun  only  gave  him  evasive  answers,  sent  Beaumarchais  to 
Pache,  the  minister  of  war,  and  at  last  declared  the  govern- 
ment no  longer  wanted  the  guns. 


THE   ACCUSATION   OF    LECOINTRE.  425 

In  the  interval,  the  Legislative  Assembly  had  given  place 
to  the  Convention.  One  fine  morning,  the  1st  December, 
1792,  Beaumarchais  read  in  the  "  Gazette  de  la  Haye"  that 
he  was  accused  of  conspiracy,  of  secret  con'espondence  with 
Louis  XVL,  of  dilapidation,  and  that  they  have  for  a  third 
time  put  seals  on  his  house.  His  friends  write  to  him  at  the 
same  time,  and  inform  him  that  it  was  contemplated  sending 
a  courier  to  have  him  arrested  in  Holland,  and  bring  him 
bound  hand  and  foot  to  Paris,  with  the  chance  of  being  mas- 
sacred on  the  road :  they  begged  him  to  return  immediately 
to  England.  He  set  out  for  London.  There  he  received  the 
report  presented  to  the  Convention  by  Laurent  Lecointre ;  a 
report  in  which  the  deputy,  deceived  by  those  who  for  eight 
months  had  sought  to  deprive  Beaumarchais  of  a  deplorable 
business  which  he  ought  to  have  resigned  to  them  a  hundred 
times,  falsified  the  facts  in  the  grossest  manner,  including  in  the 
same  accusation  of  dilapidation  and  conspiracy  the  author  of 
"The  Marriage  of  Figaro"  and  the  two  last  constitutional 
ministers  of  Louis  XVL,  De  Grave  and  Chambonas.  "  These 
vile,  grasping  men,"  said  Lecointre,  "before  plunging  the 
country  into'  the  abyss  they  had  prepared  for  it,  disputed  for 
the  execrable  honor  of  tearing  from  it  its  last  covering."  As 
for  Beaumarchais,  in  particular,  he  is  politely  described  by 
Lecointre,  "  an  essentially  vicious  man,  corrupt  by  inclination, 
who  has  reduced  immorality  to  a  principle,  and  villainy  to  a 
system^  Now  the  only  villainy  of  the  unfortunate  speculator 
consisted  in  having  risked  in  this  most  detestable  affair  745,000 
francs  of  contracts,  producing  a  yearly  income  of  72,000  francs, 
against  500,000  assignats,  worth,  at  the  rate  of  1792,  300,000 
francs,  with  the  prospect  of  losing  both  his  deposit  of  745,000 
francs,  the  guns  he  had  paid  for  in  Holland,  and  at  last  to  be 
guillotined  into  the  bargain. 

But  the  former  enemy  of  Goezman  loves  discussion  too  well 
to  let  himself  be  silently  guillotined.  On  seeing  his  decree  of 
accusation,  he  prepared  to  return  to  Paris  to  plead  in  person 
before  the  Convention,  as  if  it  were  the  Maupeou  Parliament, 
when  he  was  stopped  by  an  unexpected  obstacle.  The  En- 
glish merchant,  his  friend  and  correspondent,  who  had  lent 
him  a  month  before  a  rather  considerable  sum  expended  in 


426  BEACMASCHAJS   AKD    HIS   TIMES. 

Holland,  had  but  slight  confidence  in  the  judicial  proceedings 
of  the  Convention,  and  was  too  interested  in  the  preservation 
of  his  debtor  to  let  him  leave  England  before  paying  him. 
"It  was  too  much  for  him,"  Beaumarchais  wrote  naively  to 
Gudin,  "to  lose  both  his  money  and  his  friend."  The  Lon- 
don merchant  began  by  arresting  his  dear  friend  himself; 
while  otherwise  making  his  life  as  easy  as  possible,  he  had 
him  shut  up  in  a  house  of  detention  for  debt,  called  the  Bang's 
Bench  Prison.  A  man  of  less  combative  disposition  than 
Beaumarchais  would  have  thought,  perhaps,  that  in  Janu- 
ary, 1793,  at  the  time  of  appearing  before  the  Convention 
under  the  weight  of  a  capital  accusation,  it  was  no  great  mis- 
fortune to  be  detained,  on  the  other  side  of  the  Channel,  in  a 
prison  of  not  much  strictness,  by  a  friendly  and  obliging  cred- 
itor, who  did  not  allow  him  to  want  any  thing.  But  at  sixty 
the  author  of  "  The  Marriage  of  Figaro"  had  lost  none  of  his 
stubborn  ardor.  He  was  also  excited  by  the  circumstance 
that  the  Convention  held  his  family  and  his  fortune  as  hos- 
tages. He  only  thought  of  returning  to  recommence  his  con- 
tinual occupation  of  suitor;  and  while  the  faithful  cashier 
Gudin,  in  the  midst  of  the  ruin  of  all  property,  occupied  him- 
self in  procuring  the  funds  necessary  to  repay  his  English 
creditor,  he  devoted  the  forced  leisure  of  his  imprisonment  in 
drawing  up  a  long  memorial  to  the  Convention,  and  wrote  to 
the  President  of  that  assembly  to  inform  him  of  his  speedy  re- 
turn to  Paris,  so  determined  was  he  to  defend  himself  against 
the  accusations  of  Lecointre.  As  soon  as  his  creditor  is  paid, 
he  leaves  prison,  quits  England,  arrives  in  Paris  in  March, 
1793,  with  his  Memorial,  has  six  thousand  copies  of  it  pub- 
lished, sends  it  to  all  the  sections,  all  the  clubs,  all  the  author- 
ities of  the  time,  and  fears  not  to  wrestle  boldly  with  all  the 
unpopularity  that  hangs  over  him.  "I  have  come,"  he  wrote 
to  the  formidable  Santerre,  then  commandant  of  the  National 
Guard,  "  I  have  come  to  ofier  my  head  to  the  sword  of  jus- 
tice if  I  can  not  prove  I  am  a  great  citizen.  Save  me.  Citizen 
Commandant,  from  pillage  and  the  dagger,  and  I  shall  again 
be  serviceable  to  my  country."  Other  persons  were  contented 
to  save  their  fortune  and  their  head;  that  did  not  satisfy 
Beaumarchais :  he  must  still  prove  he  is  a  great  citizen.     It  is 


BEAUMABCHAIS'    MEMORIAL  TO   THE   CONVEKTION.       427 

rather  amusing  that  the  great  patriot  Santerre,  who,  it  is 
known,  before  becoming  a  general,  was  a  brewer  in  the  Fau- 
bourg St.  Antoine,  seems  to  have  a  certain  deference  for  his 
correspondent.  His  answer,  which  we  reproduce  Uterally, 
shows  that,  as  regards  style  and  orthography,  this  great  pat- 
riot was  about  equal  to  the  Duke  de  Fronsac. 

"  Cttoien, — Je  recjois  votre  lettre  et  tos  imprimes.  Je  n'ai  jamais 
ajoute  foy  aux  calomnies  sur  votre  voyage  de  Londre ;  je  n'y  ai  vu 
qu'une  demarche  util  k  la  republique.  Je  ne  vous  ai  connu  que  vou- 
lant  faire  le  bien  des  pauvres.  Je  pense  que  vous  n'avez  pas  k  crain- 
dre  le  pillage  ni  le  poignard  ;  cependant,  malgre  que  la  verite  ne  soit 
qu'une  il  est  necessaire  d'eclairer  ceux  que  nous  croyons  trompe. 

"  Une  affiche  au  peuple  ferait,  je  pense,  bien. 

"  Le  citoyen  Celerier  fut  celui  qui  me  remit  vos  premiers  imprimes 
que  j'ai  distribue.  Santerre,  Commandant-general. 

"  Ce  23  Mars,  1793,  r An  2." 

It  is  unnecessary  to  add  that  Beaumarchais  followed  the  ad- 
vice given  by  Santerre,  and  issued  a  fresh  placard  to  the  peo- 
ple, which  he  had  been  continually  doing  from  the  commence- 
ment of  the  Revolution ;  he  also  sent  his  Memorial  to  the 
Jacobins,  with  the  following  note : 

"  Every  good  citizen  unjustly  accused  ought  to  be  entirely  occu- 
pied in  justifying  himself  to  the  nation.  This  is  what  the  citizen 
Beaumarchais  is  doing  by  publishing  the  '  Six  Epochs,'  and  he  begs 
the  assembly,  which  is  the  mother  of  all  patriotic  societies,  to  accept 
a  copy,  while  waiting  for  the  decision  of  the  National  Convention. 

"April  12,  Year  2  of  the  Republic." 

We  will  pass  rapidly  over  this  voluminous  address  of  Beau- 
marchais' to  the  Convention,  which  the  author  divided  into 
Six  Epochs,  to  mark  the  different  phases  through  which  this 
affair  of  the  guns  had  passed  from  its  commencement  in  1792 
until  March,  1793.  Gudin  thought  he  ought  to  give  the  whole 
of  this  long  work  in  the  edition  of  the  works  of  his  friend :  he 
should  have  contented  himself  with  an  abridgment;  for,  if  it 
gives  some  interesting  details  of  the  history  of  the  men  and 
manners  of  the  time,  its  style  is  in  general  feeble,  and  the  mul- 
tiplied calculations  it  contains  about  the  subject  of  supplies 
render  it  painful  to  read.  In  a  word,  as  M.  Sainte-Beuve 
justly  says,  "A  singular  and  unexpected  thing  happened  to 
Beaumarchais ;  he  became  tedious."  It  may  well  be  imag- 
ined that  the  author  was  not  aware  of  the  excessive  length 


428  BEAUMARCHAIS   AXD    HIS    TIMES. 

which  gives  such  weight  to  his  pleadings  when,  worn  out  and 
old,  he  defended  his  fortune  and  his  life ;  but  Gudin  might 
have  thought  that  posterity,  not  having  the  same  interest  in 
the  lawsuit,  would  find  the  justification  rather  tiresome :  he 
would  have  done  better  to  have  shortened  the  first  part  of  the 
affair,  and  to  have  related  the  second,  which  remains  unknown, 
and  presents  more  interest  than  the  first.  Still,  if  this  work 
is  in  part  tedious,  it  is  far  from  meriting  the  criticism  a  writer 
published,  who  no  doubt  had  never  read  it,  when  he  says  Beau- 
marchais  appeared  as  timid  before  the  Convention  as  he  had 
been  bold  before  the  Maupeou  Parliament. 

Far  from  being  timid,  this  address  is  sometimes  astonishing 
from  its  boldness,  when  we  think  of  the  times,  and  remember 
that  the  author  was  in  the  power  of  the  expeditious  judges  to 
whom  he  had*  addressed  himself.  One  might  often  think  he 
had  not  a  clear  idea  of  what  was  passing  around  him,  and  that 
he  fancied  he  was  still  at  an  epoch  when  the  government  was 
satisfied  with  blaming  audacious  suitors.  Thus  he  writes,  with 
a  force  free  from  all  oratorical  artifice,  "I  would  defy  the 
devil  to  advance  any  business  in  this  frightful  time  of  disor- 
der that  they  call  liberty."  Then  he  pays  a  homage  to  the 
young  and  virtuous  Sombreuil,  before  whom,  he  says,  "my 
soul  bowed  down  at  the  Abbaye  at  the  approach  of  the  2d  of 
September."  Farther  on,  again,  he  ridicules  the  Jacobin  Ma- 
rat, then  in  his  fuU  power,  as  he  would  have  done  with  Goez- 
man,  without  troubling  himself  to  learn  if  the  Jacobin  Marat 
did  not  enjoy  sufficient  influence  to  do  him  a  great  injury. 
"  A  little  man,"  he  said,  "  with  black  hair,  snub  nose,  a  fright- 
ful countenance,  came,  spoke  in  a  low  voice  to  the  President ; 
shall  I  tell  you,  O  my  readers  ?  It  was  the  great,  the  just,  in 
a  word,  the  merciful  Marat."  Elsewhere  he  courageously  de- 
fends the  two  ministers  of  Louis  XVI.,  whose  names  had  been 
put  into  the  same  decree  of  accusation  with  him,  and  he  says 
quite  plainly,  "In  this  national  affair  the  Royalist  ministers  have 
alone  done  their  duty,  and  every  obstacle  has  come  from  the 
popular  ministers."  "  I  was  annoyed  under  our  old  adminis- 
tration," he  writes  in  another  page  :  "  the  ministers  tormented 
me,  but  the  annoyances  of  those  were  but  jokes  compared  to 
the  horror  of  these ;"  and  he  finishes  with  this  peroration, 


BEAUMARCHAIS'    MEMORIAL   TO   THE    CONVENTION.       429 

which  is  not  wanting  in  eloquence,  but,  above  all,  is  not  want- 
ing in  courage : 

"  Oh,  my  country  in  tears  !  Oh,  unhappy  French !  what  use  will  it 
have  been  to  you  to  have  thrown  down  Bastilles,  if  robbers  dance  upon 
them,  and  slaughter  us  upon  their  ruins  ?  True  friends  of  liberty  I 
know  that  its  first  executioners  are  license  and  anarchy;  join  your 
cries  to  mine,  and  let  us  ask  laws  of  the  deputies,  who  have  only  been 
named  our  proxies  on  this  condition.  Let  us  make  peace  with  Eu- 
rope. Was  not  the  greatest  day  of  our  glory  that  in  which  we  de- 
clared it  to  the  world  1  Let  us  strengthen  our  interior ;  let  us  form 
a  constitution  without  disputes,  without  storms,  and  above  all,  if  pos- 
sible, without  crimes.  Your  maxims  will  be  established ;  they  will 
spread  much  better  than  by  war,  murder,  and  devastation,  if  people 
see  you  are  happy  through  them.  Are  you  so  ?  Let  us  be  sincere. 
Is  it  not  with  the  blood  of  Frenchmen  that  our  earth  is  watered  ? 
Speak !  is  there  one  of  us  who  has  not  had  to  shed  tears  ?  Peace, 
laws,  a  constitution — without  these  benefits  there  is  no  country,  and 
certainly  no  liberty." 

To  write,  sign,  and  publish  such  things  on  the  6th  March, 
1793,  to  stop  in  Paris  after  having  published  them  until  after 
the  31st  May,  was  certainly  the  act  of  a  man  who  did  not 
fear  danger,  and  M.  Sainte-Beuve  very  well  described  the  man 
and  the  situation  when  he  said  on  this  subject, "  "What  aston- 
ishes me  is  that  he  preserved  his  head."  It  is  probable,  in- 
deed, that  Beaumarchais  would  have  shared  the  fate  of  so 
many  other  victims,  much  less  compromised  than  himself,  but 
for  an  unforeseen  circumstance :  he  proved  by  the  most  un- 
doubted evidence  that  the  report  of  Lecointre,  which  led  to 
his  accusation,  was  but  a  tissue  of  folly  and  lies.  His  position 
with  the  government  was  that  of  a  man  who  had  received  for 
a  supply  of  guns  500,000  francs  in  assignats,  worth  300,000 
francs,  who  had  deposited  745,000  francs  as  security,  who  could 
not  furnish  the  supply  agreed  upon  because  the  government 
had  not  given  him  the  support  it  had  promised,  and  who  said 
to  the  government,  "You  have  failed  in  your  engagement  to 
assist  me  by  a  fresh  remittance  of  money,  and  by  the  interven- 
tion of  your  minister  in  Holland  to  send  for  the  guns  I  have 
bought  for  you,  and  which  the  Dutch  government  retain  by 
force  at  Tervere.  I  am  ready  to  return  you  the  500,000  francs 
in  assignats  that  you  have  advanced  me;    return  me  the 


430  BEAUMARCHAIS    AND    HIS   TIMES. 

745,000  francs  in  contracts  that  you  made  me  deposit,  and 
we  shall  be  clear.  I  shall  have  to  lose  the  expenses  of  my 
journey,  and  my  trouble.  I  shall  make  the  best  I  can  of  the 
guns  at  Tervere,  and,  on  your  side,  you  will  procure  arras 
where  you  can." 

This  just  and  reasonable  conclusion  for  ordinary'  times 
would,  in  March,  1793,  infallibly  have  conducted  Beaumar- 
chais  to  prison,  to  go  a  little  later  where  people  were  then 
taken  on  leaving  prison ;  but  the  government,  which  till  then 
had  seemed  to  care  little  enough  about  these  guns,  declared 
they  were  indispensable.  France  was,  indeed,  attacked  on  all 
pai'ts  ;  after  the  execution  of  Louis  XVI.  England  united  with 
all  tlie  Continental  powers  against  her.  The  Committee  of 
Public  Safety  proposed  to  the  Convention  to  suspend  the  decree 
of  accusation  against  Beaumarchais,  and  to  erase  the  order  of 
sequestration  upon  his  property :  they  afterward  sent  for  him, 
and  gave  him  a  choice  between  a  condemnation  with  its  con- 
sequences, and  the  agreeable  mission  of  going  a  second  time 
into  an  enemy's  country  (for  Holland  had  at  this  time  defini- 
tively entered  into  the  coalition)  to  fetch  sixty  thousand  guns 
retained  at  Tervere.  The  task  had  become  much  more  diffi- 
cult, for  the  publicity  given  to  the  silly  report  of  Lecointre 
had  determined  the  English  government,  since  the  month  of 
January,  1793,  to  take  measures  for  seizing  these  guns  as 
French  property.  But  Beaumarchais,  who  always  had  his 
wits  about  him,  having  had  wind  of  this  project  at  the  very 
time  he  was  imprisoned  in  London,  had  induced  the  English 
merchant,  his  correspondent  and  friend,  who  liad  incarcerated 
him,  to  become,  in  consideration  of  a  large  share,  the  fictitious 
purchaser  of  these  guns,  and  to  keep  them  at  Tervere,  in  his 
name,  as  English  property,  till  the  true  proprietor  could  dis- 
pose of  them.  But  this  fictitious  purchaser  could  not  retain 
them  long,  for  the  cabinet  of  London  said  to  him,  "  Either 
you  are  the  real  proprietor  of  these  guns,  or  you  are  not ;  if 
you  are,  we  are  ready  to  reimburse  you  the  value  of  them  ;  if 
you  are  not,  we  mean  to  confiscate  them."  The  Englishman, 
faithful  to  his  engagement  with  Beaumarchais,  resisted,  affirm- 
ing that  the  guns  were  his  property  ;  asserting  his  right  to  dis- 
pose of  them  as  he  liked :  and  that  respect  for  the  law,  which 


AGENT   FOE   THE    COiDUTTEE    OF   SAFETY.  431 

distinguishes  and  honors  the  English  among  all  governments, 
leaving  the  question  yet  undecided,  the  guns  remained  at 
Tervere,  where  they  were,  however,  watched  by  an  English 
ship. 


CHAPTER  XXVn. 


Beaumarchais  Agent  for  the  Committee  of  Public  Safety  abroad,  and 
at  the  same  time  on  the  List  of  Emigrants. — Difficulties  of  his  Mis- 
sion.— Confiscation  of  his  Property. — Imprisonment  of  his  Family. — 
Private  Life  at  Paris  during  and  after  the  Beign  of  Terror. — Beau- 
marchais at  Hamburg. 

Such  was  the  state  of  things  with  regard  to  these  unfortu- 
nate guns,  when  the  Committee  of  Public  Safety  signified  to 
Beaumarchais  that  he  was  to  set  out  again  for  these  arms, 
and  that  if  he  did  not  bring  them  to  France,  or  at  least  pre- 
vent their  falling  into  the  hands  of  enemies,  his  family  and 
property,  in  default  of  his  person,  would  be  answerable  for 
the  success  of  the  operation. 

Beaumarchais  urged  that,  in  an  affair  that  was  now  so  much 
known,  he  wanted  money  more  than  ever  to  avoid  the  in- 
creased obstacles  that  shackled  him;  the  committee  had  all 
his  property  at  their  disposal,  and  his  contracts  to  the  amount 
of  745,000  francs ;  the  least  they  could  do  was  to  furnish  him 
with  the  means  of  fulfilling  the  very  difficult  mission  they  im- 
posed on  him.  The  committee,  wishing  to  have  the  guns  at 
any  price,  made  a  fresh  remittance  to  Beaumarchais  of  618,000 
francs  in  assignats,  worth  then  about  200,000  francs,  promis- 
ing to  remit  more  money  if  it  were  necessar}',  and  to  adopt, 
at  his  request,  any  plan  that  seemed  to  him  necessary  for  re- 
covering the  arms.  A  resolution  of  the  committee,  dated 
22d  May,  1793,  signed  Breard,  Guyton,  Barrere,  Danton, 
Eobert  Lindet,  Delacroix,  Cambon,  and  Delmas,  invested  the 
author  of  "  The  Marriage  of  Figaro"  with  the  title  of  Com- 
missioner of  the  Republic  for  a  secret  foreign  mission.  And 
now,  in  his  sixty-second  year,  he  sets  out  again,  in  June,  1793, 
under  the  false  name  of  Pierre  Charron,  assisted  by  two  friends, 
who  have  also  changed  their  names,  to  go  this  time  at  a  pe- 


432  BEACaiAKCHAIS    AND    HIS   TiaiES. 

riod  of  open  war,  in  the  very  midst  of  the  enemies  of  PYance, 
to  fetch  for  France  sixty  thousand  guns.  To  tell  the  innu- 
merable turnings  and  windings  he  had  to  make  to  avoid  the 
dangers  of  this  second  mission,  going  from  Amsterdam  to  Bale, 
from  Bale  to  Hamburg,  from  Hamburg  to  London,  where  he 
received  an  order  to  quit  in  less  than  three  days ;  to  expose 
the  numerous  subterfuges  that  he  was  obliged  to  employ  to 
prevent  the  Dutch  and  the  English  from  carrying  oflf  these 
guns ;  to  relate  how  he  successively  passed  them  through  the 
hands  of  three  fictitious  purchasers ;  how  he  at  last  still  ficti- 
tiously sold  them  to  a  merchant  of  the  United  States,  with  the 
determination  of  sending  them,  if  needful,  even  to  America, 
and  fetching  them  back  thence  to  France ;  to  enter  into  the 
details  of  all  these  manoeuvres,  which  Beaumarchais  directed 
like  the  intrigue  of  a  complicated  comedy,  would  be  too  long. 
By  these  means  he  succeeded  in  retaining  the  guns  at  Tervere, 
and  when  the  time  appeared  favorable  to  him,  he  earnestly 
entreated  the  Committee  of  Public  Safety  to  hasten  the  ca- 
tastrophe by  giving  an  order  to  General  Pichegru  to  advance 
and  carry  off  the  guns;  but  the  committee,  absorbed  by  a 
thousand  affairs  at  the  same  time,  allowed  him  to  struggle 
alone  in  the  difficulties  of  an  affair  which  could  now  only  be 
decided  by  force  of  arms.  The  only  missive  he  received  at 
this  period  from  the  Committee  of  Public  Safety  is  this  note 
from  Robert  Lindet,  dated  Pluviose,  Year  5  (January  26, 
1794),  showing  plainly,  it  appears  to  me,  in  its  hasty  concise- 
ness, the  sort  of  fever  which  devoured  these  dictators,  contend- 
ing, as  they  were,  with  all  Europe : 

"  We  must  have  celerity,"  Lindet  wrote  ;  "  you  must  not  wait  for 
the  result  of  events.  If  you  delay  too  long,  the  service  will  not  be 
appreciated ;  we  must  have  great  services,  and  they  must  be  ren- 
dered quickly.  We  do  not  calculate  the  difficulties ;  we  look  only 
to  the  results  and  the  success." 

While  Beaumarchais  did  his  best  to  execute  the  orders  of 
the  Committee  of  Public  Safety,  the  committee  not  only  aban- 
doned him  to  himself,  but  with  a  thoughtlessness  which  is  a 
sign  of  the  times,  it  allowed  its  agent  to  be  placed  on  the  list 
of  emigres;  it  allowed  his  property  to  be  seized,  the  arrears 
of  his  745,000  francs  deposited  by  him  to  be  stopped,  and 


IMPRISOJfMEKT    OF   BEACMARCHAIS'    FAMILY.  433 

imprisoned  his  family.  The  department  of  Paris  not  know- 
ing the  cause  of  Beaumarchais'  absence,  and  looking  upon 
his  property  as  fair  game,  had  at  first  thought  fit  to  declare 
him  an  emigre.,  to  replace  the  seals  on  his  goods,  and  to  stop 
all  payments  to  him.  Upon  the  remonstrance  of  Madame 
Beaumarchais,  the  Committee  of  Public  Safety  had  given, 
dated  Frimaire  25,  Year  2  (December,  1793),  a  decision,  by 
which  it  declared  "that  the  Citizen  Beaumarchais  was  fulfill- 
ing a  secret  mission,  and  ordered  that  he  should  not  be  treat- 
ed as  an  emigre.  (Signed  in  the  Register:  Camot,  Billaud- 
Varennes,  Robert  Lindet,  Robespierre,  Barrere,  Saint-Just, 
Couthon,  C.  A.  Prieur.)"  Upon  this  decision  the  seals  were 
removed.  Three  months  afterward,  Ventose  24,  Year  2,  in 
the  midst  of  the  anarchical  conflict  of  powers  at  this  time,  the 
Committee  of  General  Safety  had  taken  the  liberty  of  annul- 
ling the  order  of  the  Committee  of  Public  Safety,  and  of  de- 
claring Beaumarchais  once  more  an  emigre,  and  the  Depai't- 
ment  of  Paris  had  afresh  placed  the  seals  on  his  real  estate, 
and  confiscated  all  his  claims  and  all  his  income. 

During  the  height  of  the  Terror,  not  satisfied  with  having 
seized  his  property,  the  Committee  of  General  Safety,  by  an 
order  of  the  17th  Messidor,  Year  2  (July  5,  1794),  signed  Du- 
barran,  Lavicomterie,  Elie  Lacoste,  and  Amar,  had  arrested 
and  imprisoned  the  wife,  sister,  and  daughter  of  the  man  whom 
the  Committee  of  Public  Safety  had  charged  with  a  secret 
mission. 

Thanks  to  this  division  of  opinion  between  the  two  commit- 
tees, two  unfortunate  women  and  a  young  girl  of  eighteen  de- 
tained in  the  convent  of  Port-Royal,  which  was  transformed 
into  a  prison,  and  which,  by  an  atrocious  mockery,  was  called 
Port-Free,  waited  their  turn  to  ascend  the  fatal  car,  when  the 
day  of  the  9th  Thermidor  put  an  end  to  these  butcheries. 
Eleven  days  afterward,  the  21st  Thermidor,  Year  2,  another 
order  of  the  Committee  of  General  Safety  restored  the  citoy- 
ennes  Caron  to  liberjy. 

During  the  sinister  period  of  the  Terror,  Beaumarchais,  a 
refugee  at  Hamburg,  and  deprived  of  all  communication  with 
his  family,  was  a  prey  to  dreadful  agony.  He  felt  that  the 
non-success  of  his  operations  caused  the  danger  of  beings  who 

T 


434  BEAUMARCHAIS    AND   HIS   TIMES. 

were  dear  to  him  ;  he  exhausted  himself  in  efforts  and  ma- 
noeuvres to  prevent,  at  least,  the  English  government  carrying 
off  by  its  authority  these  unfortunate  guns,  which,  if  they  fell 
into  the  hands  of  the  enemy,  would  both  ruin  him  and  com- 
promise him  horribly  with  the  Committee  of  Public  Safety. 
All  the  assignats  of  the  committee  had  been  spent  for  their 
preservation ;  not  receiving  any  thing  from  France,  he  had 
himself  fallen  into  a  state  of  distress,  which,  indeed,  lasted  but 
an  instant,  but  which  was  extreme.*  His  coiTcspondence  shows 
periods  of  terrible  despair,  in  which  he  asks  himself  if  he  is 
not  mad.  "I  sometimes  examine  myself,"  he  writes  at  this 
epoch,  "if  I  am  not  mad;  and  on  seeing  the  immense  series, 
the  succession  of  ideas  by  which  I  endeavor  to  ward  off  every 
thing,  I  think  I  am  not  mad.  But  where  am  I  to  write  to 
you  ?"  he  says  to  his  wife ;  "  under  what  name  ?  where  do  you 
livet  who  are  you"?  what  name  do  you  give  yourself?  who 
are  your  true  friends'?  whom  should  I  make  mine?  Ah! 
without  the  hope  of  saving  my  daughter  from  the  atrocious 
guillotine,  death  would  be  preferable  to  the  horrible  state  I  am 
in."  It  was  precisely  to  save  his  daughter  that  Madame  de 
Beaumarchais  had,  for  a  time,  broken  off  any  correspondence 
with  her  husband,  resumed  her  family  name,  and  only  endeav- 
ored to  make  hereelf  unknown.  "  As  a  mother,"  she  wrote 
to  him  after  the  fall  of  Robespierre,  "  I  had  a  right  to  employ 
every  means  to  avoid  for  my  beloved  child  the  fate  of  so  many 
innocent  and  worthy  victims,  now  rehabilitated,  regretted,  and 
mourned  for,  but  whom  all  this  regret,  all  these  tears,  and  a 
tardy  justice  will  not  recall." 

On  leaving  prison,  after  having  been  so  close  to  death,  the 
wife,  daughter,  and  sister  of  Beaumarchais  found  themselves 
in  a  difficult  position ;  all  the  personal  estate  of  the  author  of 
"  The  Marriage  of  Figaro"  was  sequestrated,  all  his  income 
seized ;  all  claims  of  debts  that  had  been  found  in  his  desk,  in 
virtue  of  the  law  applied  to  emigres,  had  passed  into  the  hands 
of  the  agents  of  the  treasury,  who  took  means  to  recover  them, 
and  his  debtors  hastened,  even  before  their  debts  were  due,  to 
get  clear  of  them  by  paying  them  to  the  state  in  assignats. 
In  a  word,  this  deplorable  affair  of  the  guns  was  sufficient 

*  He  soon  after  received  money  from  an  American  correspondent. 


DOMESTIC   LIFE   DURING  THE   REIGN   OP   TERROR.       435 

to  give  a  mortal  blow  to  a  brilliant  fortune  laboriously  ac- 
quired. 

Meanwhile  the  sequestrated  property  was  threatened  with 
sale ;  the  young  daughter  of  Beaumarchais  had  a  horror  of 
the  magnificent  house  on  the  boulevard,  which,  she  said  in  a 
letter  to  her  father,  had  so  often  exposed  them  to  the  insults 
of  the  mob,  and  had  persuaded  her  mother  to  leave.  It  was 
urgent,  to  preserve  this  house  from  condemnation,  and  to  de- 
fend it  as  much  as  possible  from  the  rapacity  of  the  treasury, 
that  one  of  the  family  should  resolve  to  inhabit  it.  It  was 
Julie  Beaumarchais  who  devoted  herself,  and  who,  on  leaving 
prison,  went,  when  sixty  years  of  age,  to  install  herself,  with 
only  an  old  female  servant,  in  this  deserted  place,  guarded  by 
agents  of  the  Republic,  and  which  had  written  on  its  walls 
"  National  Property." 

If,  as  I  hope,  the  reader  has  retained  an  agreeable  remem- 
brance of  Julie,  he  will  like,  perhaps,  to  see  again  that  witty, 
cheerful,  courageous,  and  intelligent  phisiognomy,  which  nei- 
ther old  age,  privations,  nor  danger  can  alter. 

A  description  of  the  private  and  domestic  life  of  three  wom- 
en, formerly  rich,  exposed  to  the  difficulties  of  a  fearful  epoch, 
might  present  interesting  details  of  the  time,  which  history 
rarely  gives.  We  will  take  some  of  these  details  from  the  cor- 
respondence of  Julie  and  her  sister-in-law.  "While  the  head 
of  the  family  was  proscribed,  it  was  Madame  de  Beaumarchais, 
a  person  of  uncommon  merit,  uniting  to  the  graces  of  the  wom- 
an the  energy  of  a  man,  who  bore  all  the  weight  of  the  situa- 
tion, and  who,  while  working  on  one  side  to  stop  the  sale  of 
the  property  of  her  husband,  and  on  the  other  to  obtain  the 
removal  of  his  name  from  the  fatal  list,  was  obliged  to  pro- 
vide for  the  general  support  with  what  she  had  been  able  to 
save  from  the  shipwreck.  On  her  part,  Julie,  who  kept  her 
brother's  house,  made  her  sister  acquainted  with  all  the  attacks 
of  the  treasury,  and  excited  her  to  resistance  in  the  animated 
and  original  style  which  characterized  her : 

"  Morbleu !  my  child,"  she  wrote  to  her,  after  the  Terror,  "  let 
us  promptly  have  this  decree  (the  order  of  removal,  from  the  list). 
Here  are  the  fruits,  as  they  were  last  year,  brought  into  requisition ; 
the  cherries  being  ripe,  they  are  going  to  gather  and  sell  them  to- 


436  BEAUMARCHAIS    AND    HIS   TIMES. 

morrow,  and  the  other  things  in  time,  and  then  close  the  garden  to 
the  profane  and  gluttonous.  Is  it  not  delightful  to  occupy  this  soli- 
tary house  for  six  months,  and  to  eat  none  of  its  fruit  except  the 
stones  1  and  they  will  sell  even  them  with  the  rest.  It  is  for  the  birds 
I  speak ;  for,  as  for  myself,  I  never  thought,  considering  the  price 
these  things  sell  at,  that  there  would  be  much  left  for  us,  even  though 
the  garden  is  ours.  However,  it  is  a  pity  the  agency  have  put  their 
noses  in  here  this  year.  The  gardener  from  that  authority  came 
yesterday ;  they  are  going  to  have  a  sale  one  of  these  days ;  see 
whether  you  will  bid,  or,  rather,  prevent  this  robbery  by  some  deci- 
sive act  toward  the  agency ;  and  since  they  have  suspended  the  in- 
ventory, why  will  they  not  also  leave  our  fruits  suspended  to  the 
trees  ?  On  my  honor,  I  believe  we  shall  never  get  out  of  this  state 
of  things.     What  times ! 

"  Here  is  a  pound  of  veal  they  bring  me  for  28  francs,  and  yet  it 
is  cheap  :  it  is  worth  30.  Rage !  Fury !  Curses !  How  can  one 
live  ruining  one's  self,  and  spending  three  times  one's  fortune  1  How 
happy  are  those  who  have  gone  before  me !  They  do  not  feel  the 
beatings  of  my  head,  the  tears  that  are  in  my  eyes,  nor  my  devouring 
fever,  nor  my  teeth,  sharpened  to  eat  28  francs'  worth  of  veal ;  they 
feel  nothing  of  our  misfortunes." 

These  28  francs'  worth  of  veal  that  Julie  consumed  with 
amusing  anger  leads  us  to  say  a  word  on  the  curious  state  of 
famine  caused  by  the  increasing  depreciation  of  the  assignats 
after  the  Keign  of  Terror.  It  will  still  be  Julie  who  will  in- 
form us  how  persons  lived  at  this  time ;  her  sister-in-law  had 
just  remitted  her  4000  francs  in  assignats,  and  she  gives  an 
account  of  the  use  she  made  of  these  assignats  in  December, 
1794: 

"  When  you  gave  me  these  4000  francs,  dear  friend,  my  heart 
beat.  I  thought  you  had  become  simple  to  give  me  such  a  fortune ; 
I  put  them  quickly  into  my  pocket,  and  spoke  on  other  subjects  to 
divert  your  thoughts. 

"  I  returned  home,  and  called  out  quickly  for  wood,  provisions,  be- 
fore every  thing  increases  still  more.  There  is  Dupont  (the  old  wom- 
an servant)  running  and  doing  her  best;  the  scales  fall  from  my 
eyes  when  I  see,  without  the  food  for  the  month,  this  result  of  the 
4275  francs :  Fr«ncs. 

One  load  of  wood 1460 

9  lbs.  of  candles,  eights,  at  100  francs  the  pound 900 

4  lbs.  of  sugar,  at  100  francs  the  pound 400 

3  litrons  of  corn,  at  40  francs 120 

7  lbs.  of  oil,  at  100  francs 700 


EXPENSES   OF   LIVING   AT  THIS   TIME.  437 

12  wicks,  at  5  francs 60 

1^  bushel  of  potatoes,  at  200  francs  the  bushel 300 

Washing  for  the  month 215 

1  lb.  of  hair  powder 70 

2  ounces  of  pomatum  (at  3  sous  formerly)  now  at  25 
francs 50 

4275 
In  addition,  the  food  for  the  month — ^butter  and  eggs 
at  100  francs,  as  you  know,  meat  from  25  to  30 

francs,  and  all  in  proportion 567 

The  bread  has  missed  two  days ;  we  only  receive  now 
one  loaf  every  second  day,  from  the  increase  of  ex- 
pense ;  the  last  ten  days  I  have  only  bought  4  lbs. 

at  45  francs 180 

5022 
"  When  I  think  of  this  regal  expenditure,  as  you  call  it,  which 
makes  me  spend  from  18  to  20,000  francs  without  living  and  with- 
out any  comfort,  I  send  the  government  to  the  devil :  it  is  true  that 
these  20,000  francs*  represent  6  or  7  louis,  while  my  4000  francs 
were  worth  160,  which  makes  a  difference." 

In  a  few  days  the  value  of  the  assign  ats  lowered,  and  the 
price  of  provisions  increased  in  a  frightful  proportion ;  for,  in 
another  letter  to  her  sister-in-law,  Julie  gives  us  the  follow- 
ing details : 

"  Ten  thousand  francs  that  I  have  scattered  during  the  last  fort- 
night give  me  such  fear  and  sorrow  that  I  no  longer  know  how  to 
reckon  my  income  in  this  manner ;  three  days  have  made  a  rise  in 
the  wood  of  from  4200  francs  to  6500,  all  other  expenses  in  propor- 
tion ;  so  that,  as  I  have  told  you,  the  load  of  wood  carried  up  and 
arranged  in  order  costs  me  7100  francs.  Every  week,  now,  we  must 
reckon  from  700  to  800  francs  for  a  pot-au-feu,  and  other  sorts  of 
meat  for  ragouts,  without  the  butter,  the  eggs,  and  a  thousand  other 
details ;  the  washing  also  increases  every  day  to  such  an  extreme 
that  8000  livres  a  month  would  not  be  suiScient  for  it.  This  enrages 
me  ;  and  in  all  these  expenses,  I  swear  by  the  holy  truth  of  my  heart 
that  I  have  not  for  the  last  two  years  allowed  myself  a  single  whim, 
nor  any  other  expense  than  the  housekeeping ;  however,  I  have  some 
private  urgent  ones,  for  which  I  must  have  heaps  of  assignats." 

Beaumarchais'  sister  was  exposed  to  the  rigor  of  famine ; 

*  Beaumarchais  had  settled  on  his  sister  Julie  a  pension  of  4000 
francs,  and,  instead  of  being  paid  in  specie,  it  was  now  necessarily  paid 
in  assignats. 


438  BEAUilARCHAIS   AND    HIS   TIMES. 

his  wife  and  daughter  were  not  better  off.  I  see  in  the  cor- 
respondence of  Madame  de  Beaumarchais  that  one  of  her 
friends  walked  about  the  environs  of  Paris  to  try  to  procure 
her  some  bread,  which  for  a  few  days  was  scarcer  than  dia- 
monds. "They  say  here,"  he  writes  from  Soizy,  Prairial  17, 
Year  3  (5th  June,  1795),  "  that  at  Briare  one  can  have  flour ; 
if  it  were  so,  I  would  bargain  with  a  safe  man  in  this  neigh- 
borhood, who  would  take  it  to  your  house  by  the  passage-boat, 
which  goes  from  Briare  to  Paris  ;  but  all  that  very  much  in- 
creases the  price.  You  will  let  me  know  what  you  think  of  it ; 
in  the  mean  while,  I  do  not  despair  of  getting  hold  of  some 
rolls.  Ah !  if  I  had  the  gift  of  miracles  I  would  shower  on 
you,  not  manna  from  heaven,  but  some  good  and  very  white 
bread." 

On  learning,  in  his  exile,  all  the  misery  that  afflicted  his 
family,  Beaumarchais  also  learned  they  had  strength  of  mind 
to  support  it  —  that  cheerfulness  had  not  quite  disappeared 
from  this  formerly  joyous  family ;  they  were  exposed  to  death 
from  hunger,  but  the  frightful  axe  was  no  longer  employed, 
and  they  began  to  breathe. 

"  Here,"  writes  one  of  his  old  friends  to  him,  "  comes  the  soup 
tureen  of  the  family  ;  that  is  to  say,  you  see  on  the  mahogany  table 
(for  we  have  now  no  table-cloth)  a  small  dish  of  haricots,  two  pota- 
toes, a  small  carafon  of  wine,  and  plenty  of  water.  Your  daughter 
wants  a  poodle  to  serve  her  for  a  napkin  and  to  clean  her  plate ;  notwith- 
standing that,  come,  come ;  if  we  had  not  something  to  eat,  we  should 
have  something  to  laugh  at.  Come,  for  your  wife  and  child  want  a 
miller,  since  the  drawing-room  is  decorated  with  a  flour-mill ;  while 
your  Eugenie  will  charm  thine  ear  with  her  forte-piano,  you  will  pre- 
pare the  bread  for  her  breakfast,  your  wife  will  knit  your  stockings, 
and  your  future  son-in-law  will  be  the  baker ;  for  here  each  person 
has  his  trade,  and  that  is  the  reason  our  cows  are  so  well  kept.  It 
is  a  funny  sight  to  see  our  women  without  wigs  in  the  morning,  each 
fulfilling  some  ancillary  occupation ;  for  you  must  know  that  each 
of  us  has  put  himself  to  work,  which  explains  why  in  our  regime,  if 
there  are  no  longer  any  masters,  there  are  still  servants.  This  let- 
ter costs  you  at  least  100  francs,  including  the  paper,  the  pen,  the  ink, 
and  the  lamp  oil ;  finally,  for  economy,  I  have  written  it  at  your  house. 
We  all  embrace'you,  anyhow  and  through  every  thing. 

"While  his  family  and  friends  courageously  supported  the 
dangers  and  griefs  of  this  sad  epoch  of  our  histor}',  Beaumar- 


THE   COJUHTTEE    OP   PUBLIC    SAFETY.  439 

chais,  at  the  same  time  a  commissioner  and  a  proscribed  man, 
continued  to  struggle  in  the  midst  of  the  difficulties  of  an  act 
of  impossibility.  During  two  years,  from  June,  1793,  to  May, 
1795,  he  had  at  last  succeeded  by  subterfuges  in  keeping  the 
sixty  thousand  guns  from  the  rapacity  of  the  English,  when  a 
new  incident  occurred  Avhich  rendered  all  his  eflforts  useless. 
In  the  middle  of  the  quarrels  which  succeeded  the  fall  of 
Kobespierre,  a  fresh  discussion  took  place  in  the  tribune  about 
these  unfortunate  guns.  Lecointre,  with  his  usual  heedless- 
ness, denounced  Beaumarchais  again,  and  after  having  already 
accused  him  of  complicity  with  the  late  ministers  of  Louis 
XVI.,  he  accuses  him  now  of  having  robbed  the  state  in  the 
affair  of  the  guns  retained  at  Tervere,  and  of  connivance  with 
the  late  ministers  of  the  Committee  of  Public  Safety.  The  ri- 
diculous and  intemperate  ranting  of  Lecointre  decided  the  En- 
glish minister  to  waive  the  scruples  of  legality  which  had  hith- 
erto stopped  him ;  notwithstanding  the  protestations  of  the 
American  agent,  he  carried  off  the  sixty  thousand  guns  by 
force  to  Plymouth,  declaring  also  that  if  these  guns  were  not 
French  property,  they  should  be  valued  by  an  arbitrator,  and 
paid  for  to  the  person  to  whom  they  belonged  by  right. 

This  violent  solution  rendered  the  situation  of  Beaumar- 
chais very  trying ;  for,  if  the  English  confiscated  the  guns  with- 
out paying  for  them,  he  was  in  a  position  to  lose  the  sum  ex- 
pended by  him  in  obtaining  and  preserving  these  arms,  and, 
at  the  same  time,  would  have  to  restore  to  the  French  govern- 
ment all  the  sums  they  had  advanced  him  in  assignats  upon 
his  deposit  of  750,000  livres.  However,  the  English  govern- 
ment, in  face  of  the  claims  of  the  fictitious  proprietor,  behind 
■whom  was  concealed  the  author  of  "  The  Marriage  of  Figaro," 
did  not  think  they  could  go  so  far  as  to  confiscate  them ;  they 
made  an  arbitrary  estimation  of  the  arms,  and  paid  a  sum  far 
below  their  value  to  the  person  who  lent  his  name  to  Beau- 
marchais in  June,  1795.  From  this  moment  the  mission  of 
the  latter  was  finished ;  he  demanded  to  return  to  France,  to 
give  up  his  accounts,  and  to  put  an  end  to  so  strange  a  posi- 
tion as  that  of  an  agent  of  the  government  charged  -rt^h  a 
foreign  mission,  and,  at  the  same  time,  inscribed  in  his  own 
country  on  the  list  of  emigres,  his  possessions  seized,  and  all 


440  BEAUMARCHAIS   AND    HIS   TIMES. 

his  income  confiscated.  But  it  was  more  easy  to  place  his 
name  on  the  fatal  list  than  to  get  it  erased,  and  Madame  de 
Beaumarchais  vainly  pursued  all  the  authorities  of  the  day 
with  solicitations : 

"  A  law  is  made  to-day,"  she  wrote  to  her  husband  in  June,  1795 ; 
"  four  days  after  it  is  recalled.  Thus  they  took  away  from  the  Com- 
mittee of  Legislation  the  power  of  striking  oflf  the  names  of  emi- 
grants ;  they  have  now  given  it  back.  In  the  interval  we  have  lost 
our  reporter,  who  has  left  the  Committee  of  Public  Safety  in  his  turn, 
and  set  out  on  a  mission.  It  was  necessary  to  speak  to  his  successor, 
to  instruct  him,  to  rouse  him,  &c.,  &c.  In  virtue  of  this  new  de- 
cree, we  thought  that  the  committees  could  alone  decide  our  affair. 
Not  at  all  so ;  at  the  Legislative  Committee  they  told  us  that  it  was 
to  the  Committee  of  Public  Safety  that  we  must  at  once  go,  as  it 
was  already  in  possession  of  the  affair.  We  went  there ;  but  when 
we  expected  they  could  positively  conclude  it,  they  told  us  the  Con- 
vention was  taken  by  surprise  ;  the  affair  could  only  be  terminated  by 
a  decree,  and  not  by  a  resolution  ;  it  was  a  government  affair — quite 
a  special  case.  So  that  if  my  dear  Peters,  instead  of  having  had  a 
mission,  had  fled  since  the  31st  of  May  from  fear,  we  could  furnish 
proofs  of  it,  every  thing  would  be  explained,  and  he  might  profit  by 
a  decree  which  restores,  and  puts  in  possession  of  their  property, 
those  even  who  have  been  outlawed.  These  are  contradictions  one 
can  hardly  support. 

"  We  can  assure  you  our  courage  will  not  slacken,  and  we  shall 
obtain  the  victory." 

While  waiting  till  it  pleased  the  government  to  put  an  end 
to  the  absurd  injustice  of  which  he  was  the  victim,  Beaumar- 
chais forgot  his  personal  situation  to  interest  himself  in  pub- 
lic affairs.*     I  see  him  writing  from  Hamburg  numerous  Me- 

*  The  city  of  Hamburg  was  then  the  residence  of  a  father  large  num- 
ber of  emigrants  of  distinction.  Beaumarchais  visited  some  of  them. 
He  saw  a  great  deal  of  TallejTand,  who  was  there,  after  his  return  irom 
America,  waiting,  like  himself,  to  be  struck  off  the  list.  He  was  par- 
ticularly intimate  with  the  Abbe  Louis,  aftenvard  Baron  Louis,  Minis- 
ter of  Finance  under  the  Restoration,  who  was  then  called  Joseph  Louis. 
Beaumarchais  had  got  him  into  a  commercial  house  by  lending  him 
money  for  it.  The  letters  of  M.  I'Abbe  Louis  express  great  gratitude 
and  affection  toward  Beaumarchais,  who,  with  his  usual  sagacity,  could 
appreciate  the  talents  of  his  jvotegc,  and  foresee  his  brilliant  destiny. 
During  his  forced  leisure  at  Hamburg  he  wrote  several  things  on  vari- 
ous subjects,  which  are  but  sketches,  but  which  occasionally  contain  in- 
teresting details. 


BEAUMARCHAIS'  RETURN  TO  FRANCE.        441 

morials,  either  to  various  influential  persons  of  the  time,  or  to 
those  in  authority,  with  whose  names  he  was  sometimes  unac- 
quainted, to  transmit  opinions  upon  general  questions  which 
excited  his  solicitude. 

At  last  the  government  of  the  Convention  was  replaced  by 
that  of  the  Directory  and  the  two  Councils.  The  ardent  so- 
licitations of  the  wife  and  friends  of  the  proscribed  man  at  last 
procured  the  erasure  of  his  name  from  the  list  of  emigrants, 
and,  after  three  years'  absence,  the  author  of  "  The  Marriage 
of  Figaro"  was  able  to  return  to  his  country. 


CHAPTER  XXVin. 


Beaamarchais  after  his  Return  to  France. — His  Life  under  the  Direc- 
tory.— His  Death. 

Having  returned  to  Paris  on  the  5th  of  July,  1796,  Beau- 
marchais  found  himself  surrounded  by  the  ruins  of  a  large  for- 
tune, destroyed  not  only  by  the  general  crisis,  which  had  de- 
stroyed that  of  so  many  other  persons,  but  also  by  the  effect 
of  six  successive  seizures ;  by  the  confiscation  of  his  revenues, 
the  carrying  off  his  papers,  and  the  disappearance  of  every 
thing  but  his  debts.  His  beautiful  house  was  defaced,  his 
garden  destroyed.  At  the  very  time  when  his  debtors  were 
freeing  themselves  from  their  debts  by  paying  them  in  assig- 
nats  to  the  treasury,  numerous  creditors  were  waiting  to  seize 
him.  He  had  accounts  to  render  to  and  to  receive  from  the 
state,  which,  after  having  sequestrated  his  fortune,  still  held 
in  their  hands  the  745,000  francs  which  he  had  deposited 
with  them.  He  occupied  himself  at  first  in  marrying  his  only 
daughter  "with  a  good  young  man,"  he  says,  in  a  letter  al- 
ready published  by  Gudin,  "  who  persisted  in  wishing  to  mar- 
ry her  when  it  was  thought  1  possessed  nothing ;  she,  her 
mother,  and  I,  he  adds,  considered  we  ought  to  reward  this 
generous  attachment.  Five  days  after  my  arrival  I  made  him 
this  handsome  present."*    When  the  happiness  of  his  daugh- 

*  The  good  young  man  to  whom,  in  1796,  Beaumarchais  gave  his 
charming  daughter,  was  M.  Andre-Toussaint  Delarue,  who  was,  in  1789, 

T2 


442  BEAUMARCHAIS  AND  HIS  TIMES. 

ter  was  assured,  the  author  of  "The  Marriage  of  Figaro"  had 
to  regulate  his  accounts  with  the  government,  and  to  remedy, 
as  he  best  could,  the  ravages  which  four  years  of  lawsuit  and 
proscription  had  made  in  his  fortune.  His  position  with  the 
state,  with  regard  to  those  unhappy  guns,  will  not  have  been 
forgotten.  He  had  received  assignats  in  advance  ;  he  had  de- 
posited securities  to  the  amount  of  the  value  of  these  advances ; 
the  whole  of  his  income  had  been  confiscated  nearly  four  years; 
he  had  been  obliged  to  expend  considerable  sums  to  prevent 
the  English  possessing  themselves  of  the  guns  deposited  at  Ter- 
vere ;  and  after  having  preserved  these  arms  during  four  years, 
he  found  himself  constrained  to  allow  them  to  be  carried  off 
by  force,  and  to  accept  the  arbitrary  price  at  which  the  En- 
glish government  had  thought  fit  to  value  them. 

The  question  was,  then,  to  fix  the  balance  between  the  ad- 
vances he  had  received  in  assignats  and  the  sum  for  the  sale 
of  the  guns  also  received  by  him  on  the  one  hand,  and,  on  the 
other,  the  property  he  had  deposited  as  security,  his  revenues 
and  his  claims  for  debt,  unjustly  confiscated,  the  various  sums 
expended  by  him  for  the  preservation  of  the  arms,  by  order  of 
the  Committee  of  Public  Safety — in  a  word,  whether  to  make 
him  a  debtor  or  a  creditor  of  the  Republic,  according  to  the 

aid-de-camp  to  General  Lafayette,  administrator  of  the  excise  under 
the  Empire,  colonel  of  the  8th  legion  of  the  National  Guard  under  the 
Restoration  and  under  the  government  of  July.  In  1840  M.  Delarue 
asked,  on  account  of  his  age,  to  retire  from  his  post  of  colonel ;  the 
government,  not  wishing  to  separate  itself  from  a  man  who  had  render- 
ed honorable  senice  in  times  of  difficulty,  obliged  liim  to  accept  the 
grade  of  Marechal  du  Camp  of  the  National  Guard,  a  post  which  he  oc- 
cupied till  February,  1848,  when,  at  the  age  of  eighty-four,  he  com- 
manded a  brigade.  The  son-in-law  of  Beaumarchais,  at  the  time  we 
are  writing,  is  still  living,  surrounded  in  his  vigorous  old  age  by  the  af- 
fection of  all  those  who  have  known  how  to  appreciate  the  noble  quali- 
ties of  his  heart  and  disposition.  By  his  marriage  with  the  only  daugh- 
ter of  Beaumarchais,  M.  Delarue  has  had  two  sons,  the  eldest  of  whom, 
after  having  been  successively  page  to  the  emperor,  orderly  officer  to 
King  Louis  Philippe,  and  colonel  of  the  2d  regiment  of  Lancers,  is  now 
a  general  of  brigade.  The  second  grandson  of  the  author  of  "The 
Marriage  of  Figaro"  occupies  the  post  of  receiver  of  finances,  and  a 
great-grandchild  of  Beaumarchais,  who,  by  her  wit  and  grace,  does  not 
belie  her  origin,  has  married  M.  Rouelleaux  Dugage,  formerly  prefect 
under  the  government  of  July,  now  a  member  of  the  legislative  body. 


BEAUMARCHAIS*  RETURN  TO  FRAKCE.        443 

result  of  this  balance.  In  general,  the  government  did  not 
like  to  restore  money,  and  this  repugnance,  in  some  degree 
normal,  would  be  even  increased  in  this  case  by  the  result  of 
the  whole  operation,  since  the  Republic  had  made  advances 
upon  securities,  certainly,  but  they  had  not  received  the  guns. 
On  the  other  side,  it  was  not  the  fault  of  Beaumarchais  if,  in 
the  midst  of  the  disorder  of  the  times,  after  not  having  given 
him  any  assistance  in  a  mission  they  had  forcibly  imposed  on 
him,  they  had  very  unjustly  confiscated  all  his  property,  and 
applied  to  the  benefit  of  the  state  the  recovery  of  all  his  debts. 
The  first  examination  of  this  difficult  adjustment  of  accounts 
between  Beaumarchais  and  the  state  lasted  nearly  two  years. 
At  last  the  Pluviose  4,  Year  6  (January,  1798),  a  commission 
named  by  the  Directory,  and  composed  of  the  citizens  Golbe- 
ry,  Deladreux,  and  Senovert,  after  a  report  very  clearly  made 
out,  but  very  long,  which  consequently  we  do  not  produce,  aft- 
er having  carefully  balanced  the  claims  of  Beaumarchais  on 
the  Eepublic,  and  those  of  the  Kepublic  on  Beaumarchais,  de- 
clared the  state  remained  a  debtor  toward  the  latter  to  the 
sum  of  997,875  francs,  including  in  that  the  745,000  francs' 
worth  of  contracts  deposited  by  him  as  security  at  the  com- 
mencement of  the  undertaking. 

The  author  of  "  The  Marriage  of  Figaro"  claimed  a  larger 
sum,  but  it  was  a  great  victory  to  obtain  from  a  not  very  scru- 
pulous government  so  considerable  a  restitution.  This  sum 
would  have  enabled  him  to  satisfy  his  most  importunate  cred- 
itors, and  obtain  a  little  tranquillity  at  the  end  of  his  life,  when, 
by  a  fatality  which  caused  the  misery  of  his  last  days,  the  Di- 
rectory thought  right  to  name  a  new  commission,  which  de- 
stroyed the  work  of  the  first.  Refusing  to  give  an  account  to 
Beaumarchais  of  all  the  government  had  taken  from  him  at  a 
time  when,  without  any  reasonable  motive,  they  had  inscribed 
his  name  on  the  list  of  emigrants,  and  of  the  expenses  caused 
for  the  preservation  of  the  guns  at  Tervere,  this  fii^sh  commis- 
sion made  him  pass  from  the  position  of  a  creditor  for  997,875 
francs  to  that  of  a  debtor  for  500,000  francs.  It  was  in  strug- 
gling with  the  authorities  against  the  decision  of  this  last  com- 
mission that  the  old  age  of  Beaumarchais  was  consumed. 
While,  in  consequence  of  this  unjust  decision,  the  govenimont 


444  BEAUMAKCHAIS    ASD    HIS    TIMES. 

joined  his  real  creditors  in  tormenting  him,  the  latter  did  not 
give  him  a  moment's  rest ;  he  found  himself  a  prey  to  sum- 
monses, to  seizures  of  his  real  and  personal  estate,  to  attor- 
neys, tipstaffs,  and  bailiffs ;  in  a  word,  to  all  the  horrors  of  a 
broken  fortune.  He  occupied  a  superb  palace,  which  he  could 
neither  sell  nor  let ;  in  the  midst  of  the  most  urgent  want,  he 
could  scarcely  find  sufficient  to  pay  the  taxes  on  the  two  hund- 
red windows  and  the  four  iron  gates  which  decorated  this  pal- 
ace. An  unpublished  letter  to  the  minister  of  finance,  Ramel, 
written  even  before  the  new  commission  had  raised  his  despair 
to  its  climax,  will  give  an  idea  of  his  situation : 

"  Germinal,  Year  6,  Paris,  30. 

"  Citizen  Minister, — I  swear  to  you  my  state  becomes  intolerable. 
I  could  have  regulated  the  whole  world  with  all  I  have  written  on 
this  detestable  affair,  which  wears  out  my  mind  and  disgraces  my 
old  age.  To  meet  with  opposition  when  I  am  myself  so  patient  a 
creditor !  Always  in  grief — always  expecting,  without  ever  seeing 
any  thing  come !  Running,  knocking  every  where,  and  never  being 
able  to  terminate  any  thing.  It  is  the  punishment  of  a  slave,  of  a 
subject  of  the  old  regime,  and  not  the  hfe  of  a  French  citizen. 

"  Permit  me  to  send  a  truckle-bed  to  a  garret  in  your  hotel.  They 
will  then  say  to  you  every  day, '  He  is  there.''  You  will  realize  then 
that  a  wretched  man,  for  six  years  thrown  out  of  his  rank,  and  ruin- 
ed, is  excusable  for  desiring  persons  should  condescend  to  occupy 
themselves  with  his  case.  Caron  Beaumarchais." 

The  feeling  of  his  private  griefs  was  always  with  Beaumar- 
chais associated  with  general  reflections. 

In  this  con*espondence  of  his  old  age,  Beaumarchais  does 
not  seem  always  animated  with  a  very  lively  interest  for  re- 
publican institutions.  However,  some  intimate  letters  an- 
nounced a  certain  taste  for  the  new  regime,  when  there  was 
not  exhibited  too  much  irritation  from  the  tricks  and  violence 
of  one  party  toward  the  other.  For  example,  he  was  present 
at  a  dinner  where  there  was  an  assemblage  of  patriots,  and 
gave  the  account  of  his  impressions  in  the  following  letter  to 
one  of  his  friends,  dated  24  Germinal,  Year  5  : 

"I  had  yesterday,  my  dear  Charles,  a  dinner,  the  remembrance 
of  which  will  remain  a  long  time  in  my  memory,  from  the  choice 
collection  of  guests  that  our  friend  Dumas  (General  Dumas)  had  as- 
sembled at  his  brother's  house. 


A   DIKXEK   UNDEK  THE   REPUBLIC  445 

"  Formerly,  when  I  dined  at  the  houses  of  any  of  the  great  men 
of  the  state,  I  was  always  shocked  at  the  collection  of  persons  of  all 
characters,  whose  birth  was  the  sole  cause  of  their  admission  :  fools 
of  quality,  simpletons  who  had  places,  men  proud  of  their  riches,  im- 
pudent young  fellows,  coquettes,  &c.  If  it  was  not  the  ark  of  good 
Noah,  it  was  at  least  the  court  of  King  Petaut ;  but  yesterday,  of 
the  four-and-twenty  persons  at  table,  there  was  not  one  whose  per- 
sonal merit  did  not  entitle  him  to  the  post  he  occupied.  It  was,  if  I 
may  use  the  word,  an  excellent  extract  from  the  French  Republic ; 
and  I  looked  silently  at  each,  considering  the  great  merit  which  in- 
dividually distinguished  them.     Here  are  their  names : 

"  General  Moreau,  conqueror  at  Biberach,  &c.,  and  who  made  the 
superb  retreat  that  every  one  knows  of. 

"  The  Minister  of  the  Interior  Benezech,  whom  the  public  voice 
called  to  the  Directory. 

"  Boissy  d'Anglas,  the  honor  of  whose  re-election  was  contested 
for  by  forty-two  departments,  and  who  has  just  been  again  re- 
elected. 

"  Petiet,  Minister  of  War,  whom  all  military  men  honor. 

"  Lebrun,  one  of  the  most  talented  men  of  the  Council. 

"  Simeon,  a  very  celebrated  lawyer  of  the  Council  of  Five  Hund- 
red. 

"  Trongon  du  Coudray,  of  the  Council  of  the  Elders,  one  of  the 
most  eloquent  supporters  the  unfortunate  can  have. 

"  Dumas  de  Saint-Fulcran,  at  whose  house  we  dined ;  one  of  the 
most  esteemed  men  of  the  military  profession. 

"  Lemerer,  of  the  Council  of  the  Elders,  one  of  the  supporters  of 
the  Constitution  against  the  anarchists. 

"  General  Sauviac,  a  great  warrior,  who  composed  the  eulogium 
on  Vauban. 

"  Pastoret,  an  eloquent  pleader  of  the  bold  principles  of  the  Coun- 
cil of  Five  Hundred. 

"  The  Minister  of  General  Police,  Cochon,  one  of  those  powerftil 
men  who  know  best  how  to  turn  a  ministerial  diflBculty  to  the  ad- 
vantage of  the  nation. 

"  Vaublanc,  of  the  Council  of  Five  Hundred,  the  defender  of  the 
colonies  against  all  usurpers. 

"  Young  Kellermann,  who  (wounded)  brings  us  twenty-five  flags 
from  Bonaparte. 

"  General  Menou,  who  has  acquired  immortal  glory  by  refusing  to 
fire  on  the  citizens  in  Vendemiaire. 

"  General  Dumas,  of  the  Council  of  the  Elders ;  this  name  re- 
quires no  further  praise. 

"  Lehoc,  who  was  charged  with  our  affairs  in  Sweden. 


446  BKAUMARCHAIS   AXD    HIS   TIMES. 

"  Zac-Mathieu,  a  supporter  of  the  Constitution,  as  were  all  his 
friends  of  the  Council  of  the  Elders. 

"  Portalis,  of  the  Council  of  the  Elders,  whose  forcible  eloquence 
has  a  hundred  times  overthrown  the  black  enterprises  of  the  ene- 
mies of  the  interior,  and  from  whom  is  expected,  the  day  after  to- 
morrow, a  report  against  the  calumnies  and  abuses  inseparable  from 
the  freedom  of  the  press. 

"  Mathieu,  Commissary-general  of  the  army  of  General  Moreau. 

"  Bandeau,  General  of  Brigade,  aid-de-camp  of  General  Moreau. 

"  Loyel,  his  second  aid-de-camp. 

"  Ramel,  colonel  of  the  grenadiers  who  form  the  guard  of  the 
Legislative  Corps. 

"And,  for  the  last  and  lowest  of  the  guests,  myself,  the  observer, 
who  enjoyed  himself  in  the  fullness  of  his  soul. 

"  The  dinner  has  been  instructive,  not  noisy,  very  agreeable ;  in- 
deed, was  such  as  I  do  not  recollect  ever  to  have  been  at  before. 
If  you  like  your  friend  to  see  good  company,  this  was  excellent. 
Good-by.  Caron  BeaumaWchais." 

It  was  in  April,  1797,  that  Beaumarchais  appeared  at  this 
dinner,  where  he  calls  the  guests,  rather  singularly  amalga- 
mated, an  extract  of  the  Republic.  Four  months  after,  the 
18th  Fructidoi',  a  coup  detat  proscribed  nearly  half  these 
guests.  "  The  deputies  of  the  people,"  says  Gudin,  "  were 
carried  away  from  their  sacred  seats,  shut  up  in  ambulatory 
cages  like  wild  beasts,  crowded  into  ships,  and  transported  to 
Guiana."  This  republican  coup  cCetat  naturally  cooled  the 
republican  zeal  of  Beaumarchais  a  good  deal.  "  He  acknowl- 
edged no  longer,"  added  Gudin,  "  either  men  or  actions ;  he 
no  longer  understood  the  forms  or  the  means  employed  in 
these  times,  stripped  of  rules  and  principles.  He  invoked  Rea- 
son, which  had  so  frequently  caused  him  to  triumph.  Rea- 
son was  a  stranger ;  she  was,  if  one  dared  to  say  it,  a  sort  of 
emigrant  whose  name  rendered  those  suspected  who  called  on 
her." 

In  the  midst  of  this  whirlpool  of  illegality  and  fraud,  it 
was  necessary  that  the  author  of  "  The  Marriage  of  Figaro," 
who  had  become  deaf,  he  says  somewhere,  as  a  sepulchral 
urn,  harassed  by  creditors,  following  up  insolvent  debtors,  and 
especially  his  great  debtor,  the  state,  which  would  not  pay 
him,  should  recommence  afresh,  at  sixty-five,  the  labors  of  his 
whole  life.     It  would  seem  that  a  situation  so  disastrous 


VERSAXILITY    OF    BEAUMAECHAIS.  447 

would  have  been  sufficient  to  have  entirely  upset  him.  How- 
ever, it  was  not  so.  Under  the  weight  of  griefs  which  be- 
sieged him,  we  see  him  shaking  off  all  personal  considerations, 
to  apply  his  mind  with  indefatigable  ardor  to  all  questions  of 
public  interest,  to  a  thousand  things,  literary  or  otherwise — to 
a  thousand  incidents  which  were  all  new  to  him.  At  one 
time  he  pointed  out  with  indignation,  in  the  journals  of  the 
time,  the  incredible  negligence  which  allowed  the  body  of  Tu- 
renne,  subject  to  the  Vandalism  of  terror,  to  remain  forgotten 
and  exposed  among  the  skeletons  of  animals  at  the  Jardins  des 
Plantes,  and  procured  it  the  order  in  council  of  the  Directory, 
which,  five  or  six  months  afterward,  put  an  end  to  the  scan- 
dal ;  another  time  he  wrote  either  to  the  government  or  to 
the  deputies,  who,  like  Baudin  of  Ardennes,  represent  his 
ideas  of  moderation  and  law,  memorials  or  letters  upon  all  the 
subjects  which  form  the  order  of  the  day.  He  chatted  about 
literature  and  the  theatre  with  the  amiable  Collin  d'Harle- 
ville,  or  he  pleaded  with  the  minister  of  the  interior  for  the 
rights  of  dramatic  authors  against  the  actors,  and  at  the  same 
time  he  ■wrote  to  this  minister  a  very  earnest  letter  of  recom- 
mendation in  favor  of  an  unfortunate  actress,  Madame  Vestris. 
He  also  occupied  himself  with  the  reveal  of  the  "  Mere  Coupa- 
ble."  He  enjoyed  with  delight  his  late  successes  at  the  theatre. 
An  imagination  as  ardent  as  that  of  Beaumarchais  could 
not  be  a  stranger  to  the  universal  enthusiasm  which  the  young 
conqueror  of  Italy  then  inspired.  After  having  followed  Gen- 
eral Bonaparte  in  prose  and  verse  beyond  the  Alps,  when  the 
latter  came  to  Paris  in  December,  1797,  the  author  of  "  The 
Marriage  of  Figaro"  addressed  his  friend,  the  minister  Talley- 
rand, on  the  subject,  in  a  letter  which  contains  some  very  bad 
verses,  but  which  is  rather  interesting,  as  it  proves  that  even 
at  this  time  there  were  persons  in  France  who  mutilated  the 
great  name  of  Bonaparte,  as  the  "  Moniteur"  had  done  when 
printing  it  after  Vendemiaire  for  the  first  time. 

"  24  Frimaire,  Year  C. 

"  Citizen  Minister, — ^\^'hen  Bonaparte  signed  the  preliminaries  of 
peace,  I  put  into  the  French  journals  which  crossed  the  Alps  these 
four  bad  lines,  whose  only  merit  consists  in  their  intention,  which  he 
has  very  nobly  taken,  and  with  great  readiness  : 


448  BEAUMARCHAIS   AND   HIS  TIMES. 

'  Jeune  Bonaparte,  de  victoire  en  victoire 
Tu  nous  donnes  la  paix,  et  nos  coeurs  sont  emus ; 
Mais  veux-tu  conquerir  tous  les  genres  de  gloire  ? 
Pense  k  nos  prisonniers  d'Olrautz.'* 

"  Now  that  he  laughs  at  us,  and  conceals  himself  as  much  as  he 
can,  I  beg  you  to  show  him  the  testimony  of  my  displeasure  : 

'boctade  by  an  old  man  who  is  annoyed  at  not  having 

SEEN    HIM. 

*  Comme  FranQais,  je  cherche  une  faQon  nouvelle 
De  rendre  un  juste  hommage  au  grand  Bonaparte. 
Si  j'etais  ne  dans  Londres,  ah  !  je  voudrais  comme  elle 
Que  le  diable  I'eut  emporte  !' 

"  You  know  that  I  am  the  first  poet  in  Paris  as  you  enter  by  the 
Porte  Antoine.  Beaumarchais." 

Three  months  later,  Greneral  Mathieu  Dumas,  brother-in- 
law  of  the  son-in-law  of  Beaumarchais,  having  introduced  the 
latter  to  General  Desaix,  the  author  of  "  The  Marriage  of 
Figaro"  profited  by  it  to  write  by  him  direct  to  General 
Bonaparte  a  letter,  the  rough  copy  of  which  I  have  not  been 
able  to  find  among  his  papers,  but  which  procured  him  this 
unpublished  letter,  in  which  may  be  already  recognized  under 
its  republican  familiarity  that  imperial  conciseness  which  the 
ancients  named  imperatoria  hrevitas. 

"  Paris,  Germinal  11,  Year  6  (March,  179S). 

"  General  Desaix  has  remitted  to  me,  citizen,  your  agreeable  let- 
ter of  the  25th  Ventose.  I  thank  you  for  it :  I  shall  embrace  with 
pleasure  any  circumstance  which  may  present  itself  to  make  the  ac- 
quaintance of  the  author  of  La  Mere  Coupable.' 

"  I  salute  you.  Bonaparte. "f 

*  An  allusion  to  Lafayette  which  does  honor  to  Beaumarchais'  feel- 
ing disposition. 

t  I  find,  among  the  papers  intrusted  to  me  by  Beaumarchais'  family, 
another  note  from  Bonaparte  when  First  Consul,  addressed  to  Madame 
de  Beaumarchais,  after  the  death  of  her  husband,  and  in  answer  to  a 
petition.  It  is  in  the  following  terms:  "Paris,  Vendemiaire,  Year  9. 
Madame,  I  have  received  your  letter ;  I  will  act  in  your  affair  with  all 
the  interest  which  the  memory  of  the  justly-celebrated  man  deserves, 
and  which  you  yourself  inspire. — Bokaparte."  We  may  here  rectify 
one  of  the  numerous  incorrect  details  which  are  found  in  the  "  Memo- 
rials of  St.  Helena."  The  author  of  this  work  made  the  glorious  cap- 
tive say  "  that  he  had  constantly  repelled  Beamnarchais,  in  spite  of  all 


BEAUMARCHAIS'   RELIGIOUS  FEELINGS.  449 

All  the  letters  of  Beaumarchais'  old  age  are  not  equally 
interesting  as  concerns  the  sentiment  which  dictated  them. 
Two  of  them,  above  all,  caused  much  scandal  when  they  were 
published  by  him  in  the  "Journal  de  Paris,"  and  the  "phi- 
losopher" Gudin  has  not  failed  to  reproduce  them  religiously : 
we  mean  those  in  which,  when  censured  in  reference  to  the 
publication  of  Voltaire's  works,  the  author  of  "  The  Marriage 
of  Figaro,"  who  until  that  time  had  never  attacked  Chris- 
tianity in  a  direct  manner,  allows  himself  to  do  so  in  a  mo- 
ment of  impatience. 

Some  time  before,  Beaumarchais,  by  very  seriously  and 
very  properly  requesting  an  increase  in  the  number  of  masses 
for  his  wife,  his  daughter,  his  sister,^  and  the  faithful  of  his 
quarter,  set  the  example  of  that  kind  of  respect  which  incre- 
dulity owes  to  religion.  Therefore  this  outburst  in  his  old 
age  can  only  be  explained  by  attributing  it  to  a  fit  of  irrita- 
tion. Disapproved  of  as  they  were  by  Madame  de  Beaumar- 
chais, the  author  of  "  The  Marriage  of  Figaro"  would,  doubt- 
less, never  have  written  these  unfortunate  letters  if  his  sister 
Julie,  who  was  very  pious,  and  had  some  influence  over  him, 
had  not  died  a  year  before. 

In  order  to  leave  no  unfavorable  impression  on  the  reader, 
we  must  show  the  same  man  who  edited  these  improper  let- 
ters about  the  same  time  addressing  the  following  lines  to  an 
old  sinner,  Morande,  which  were  written  dans  Vabandon  de 
Vamitie,  the  sincerity  of  which  should  not  therefore  be  doubted, 
and  which  show  that  if  the  religious  sentiment  in  him  was 
not  complete,  it  was  not,  perhaps,  so  extinct  as  in  many  other 
celebrated  personages  of  the  eighteenth  century.  Beaumar- 
chais writes : 

"  I  do  not  like  your  considering  the  dissolution  of  the  body  in  your 
philosophical  reflections  as  the  fate  which  is  exclusively  destined  Tor 
us :  this  body  is  not  us ;  it  will  doubtless  perish,  but  the  make  r  of 
such  a  splendid  edifice  would  have  made  a  work  unworthy  his  power 

his  wit,y/om  the  time  of  Ms  consulatefon  account  of  his  bad  reputation 
and  his  great  immorality."  Besides  the  fact  that  the  two  letters  we 
have  just  quoted  are  far  from  indicating  so  marked  an  antipathy,  the 
Emperor  would  not  have  said  that  he  had  repelled  Beaumarchaisyrom 
the  time  of  his  consulate,  as  the  latter  died  before  the  consulate,  on  the 
18th  May,  1799,  when  General  Bonaparte  was  still  in  Eprjpt. 


450  BEAUMAKCHAIS    AND    HIS   TIMES. 

if  he  reserved  nothing  of  that  great  faculty  which  he  has  allowed  to 
reach  to  a  knowledge  of  himself.  My  brother,  my  friend,  my  Gudin 
often  converses  with  me  about  this  uncertain  future,  and  our  conclu- 
sion is  always.  Let  us  at  least  deserve  that  it  may  be  good ;  if  it  be 
so,  we  shall  have  made  an  excellent  calculation  ;  if  we  are  to  be  mis- 
taken in  such  a  consoling  view,  this  reflection  on  ourselves,  prepar- 
ing us  for  an  irreproachable  life,  has  very  great  comfort." 

By  the  side  of  this  we  like  to  see  the  author  of  "  The  Mar- 
riage of  Figaro"  accused  in  1798  by  his  friend  Talleyrand, 
who  was  then  minister  of  foreign  affairs,  of  being  the  dupe  of 
every  one,  and  he  bore  this  reproach  very  well : 

"  The  day  before  yesterday,"  he  writes,  "  I  was  smiling  at  the 
great  praise  you  lavished  on  me  by  saying  that  I  should  be  the  dupe 
of  every  one.  To  be  duped  by  all  those  one  has  obliged,  from  the 
sceptre  to  the  shepherd's  crook,  is  to  be  a  victim  and  not  a  dupe. 
If  I  could  have  kept  all  that  ungrateful  baseness  has  taken  from  me, 
I  would  not  at  such  a  price  have  acted  otherwise.  This  is  my  creed. 
What  I  lose  affects  me  but  little  ;  that  which  affects  the  glory  and 
happiness  of  my  country  exhausts  all  my  sensibilities.  When  we 
commit  a  fault,  I  feel  the  anger  of  a  child,  and  without  being  good, 
or  doing  any  thing,  I  repair  every  night,  in  purpose  at  least,  the  fol- 
lies and  errors  of  each  day.  This  is  what  my  friend  calls  being  a 
dupe,  as  every  one  here,  they  say,  thinks  only  of  himself  What  an 
abominable  country  if  this  were  true  of  all !  but  I  am  sure,  and  very 
sure  of  the  contrary.  When  will  you  see  my  little  work,  '  Com- 
merce de  Dupe?'*  It  will  not  displease  you;  you  will  find  some- 
thing shown  from  the  past,  present,  and  future — the  future,  all  that 
remains  to  us !  While  speaking  of  the  two  others,  they  are  already 
far,  far  away. 

"  Hail,  imperishable  attachment.  Beaumarchais." 

This  ardor  of  sensibility  and  patriotic  disinterestedness  must 
have  been  very  sincere,  as  Beaumarchais  did  not  fear  to  dis- 
play it  to  so  tortuous  a  man  as  Talleyrand.     He  certainly 

*  It  is  a  Memorial  in  favor  of  peace  with  the  United  States ;  our  dip- 
lomatic relations  with  this  young  republic  had  just  been  disturbed. 
Beaumarchais  desired  to  be  sent  on  an  embassy  to  America,  and  fore- 
seeing that  his  deafness  would  be  objected  to,  he  refuted  the  objection 
beforehand  by  the  following  argument,  which,  if  not  very  solid,  is  at 
least  very  ingenious:  "My  bad  hearing,"  he  ^v^ote,  "would  not  be  an 
obstacle ;  it  is  not  necessary  to  speak  low  to  the  delegates  of  a  power- 
ful republic  when  treating  of  its  interests.  The  mystery  used  by  royal 
negotiators  is  beneath  our  high  diplomacy." 


CEEDITOKS   AND   BOEKOWEES.  451 

could  not  have  intended  to  make  a  dupe  of  him.  This  was 
part  of  his  character,  which  he  could  well  support  against  the 
railleries  of  the  subtle  minister.  And,  indeed,  nothing  was 
moi'e  real  than  the  perpetual  solicitude  of  Beaumarchais  for 
what  did  not  concern  him.  No  one  could  imagine  what  a 
quantity  of  paper  he  soiled  in  his  old  age,  when  tormented  by 
personal  cares,  for  the  applicants  or  inventors  ;*  they  begged 
for  his  assistance,  erroneously  believing  him  to  be  possessed  of 
great  influence  about  all  the  political,  diplomatic,  or  commer- 
cial questions  which  interested  France. 

In  the  midst  of  these  varied  preoccupations,  and  despite  the 
hours  of  despondency  in  which  Beaumarchais  thought  himself 
irretrievably  ruined,  his  natural  gayety  and  quickness  of  rep- 
artee never  forsook  him,  not  even  in  his  latter  days.  When 
opulent,  we  have  seen  that  he  was  a  prey  to  borrowers  and 
beggars,  who  were  often  deficient  in  politeness;  his  old  age 
and  poverty  did  not  exempt  him  from  this  kind  of  unpleasant- 
ness :  people  persisted  in  thinking  him  rich.  While  his  house 
and  furniture  were  being  seized  by  his  creditors,  he  was  often 
obliged  to  shut  his  door  against  the  multitude  of  borrowers 
who  continued  to  besiege  it,  and  he  received  strange  notes  in 
tlie  following  style : 

"  Fnictidor  9  (August  26,  1797). 
"  Sir, — I  can  not  refrain  from  expressing  my  surprise  at  the  im- 
pudence in  a  man  of  your  extraction,  leaving  a  military  man  of  rank 
at  a  porter's  lodge,  and  sending  him  a  verbal  answer  through  a  serv- 
ant. You  will  pretend  not  to  have  received  this.  I  expect  as  much. 
"  Nevertheless,  I  never  forgot  an  insult ;  and  I  am  offended  at  the 
manner  in  which  you  receive  well-bred  persons.     Satis. 

"  C.  Dubois  Dcnilac, 
"  Commissary  of  War,  Rue  Traversiere,  Saint  Honore,  No.  77." 

This,  thought  old  Beaumarchais,  is  a  singular  way  of  beg- 
ging at  doors ! 

One  would  hardly  imagine  how  the  author  of  "The  Mar- 

*  Thus  one  of  the  last  works  of  his  old  age  is  a  memorial  to  the  min- 
ister of  the  interior,  rran9ois  de  Xeufchateau,  in  behalf  of  a  man  who 
thought  he  had  discovered  the  art  of  directing  aerostats.  On  another 
occasion,  when  Madame  Scherer,  the  wife  of  the  minister  of  war, 
came  to  see  his  garden,  Beaumarchais  took  advantage  of  the  oppor- 
tunity to  present  to  her  a  petition,  very  gallantly  worded,  in  favor  of 
an  old  soldier. 


452  BEAUMARCHAIS    AND   HIS  TUIES. 

riage  of  Figaro"  was  occupied  in  his  latter  days  when  be- 
sieged by  huissiers.  One  might  guess  a  thousand  times.  He 
edited  a  Memorial  to  the  Directory  on  the  assassination  of 
the  French  plenipotentiaries,  committed  by  some  Austrian 
hussars,  April  28,  1799,  near  Eastadt,  the  news  of  which  had 
just  arrived,  and  excited  a  burst  of  horror  and  surprise  in 
France.  Beaumarchais'  Memorial  began  in  the  following 
manner : 

Beaumarchais  to  Citizen  Treilhard. 
"  Citizen  Director, — In  the  ordinary  course  of  political  events,  I 
consider  it  would  be  more  than  indiscreet  on  my  part  to  express  my 
opinion,  whatever  it  might  be,  to  you,  in  the  hope  of  influencing  your 
determination ;  but  the  unheard-of  crime,  the  atrocious  accident  of 
which  the  telegraph  has  just  informed  us,  b  of  such  great  import- 
ance, that  I  consider  I  am  fulfilling  my  duty  as  a  good  citizen  by 
telling  you  in  a  few  words  what  I  think  of  it." 

The  author  of  this  Memorial  then  gives  his  opinion  as  to 
the  position  France  ought  to  take  with  regard  to  the  crime ; 
not  to  be  precipitate  in  taking  revenge,  but  to  maintain  a  calm 
and  imposing  majesty.  After  having  developed  the  motives 
of  his  opinion,  he  continues  in  these  words : 

"  If  I  had  the  honor  to  be  one  of  the  five  principal  magistrates  of 
the  Republic,  I  should  vote  for  a  general  mourning  on  account  of  the 
deadly  wound  received  by  the  nation  through  its  plenipotentiaries 
at  Rastadt.  Publish  a  proclamation  identifying  France  with  the 
execrable  insults  which  her  three  delegates  have  received  in  her 
name 

"  Either  I  am  mistaken  in  my  country,  or  I  think  that  you  ought 
to  expect  from  such  a  noble  mode  of  acting  a  levee  en  masse  of  the 
nation. 

"  Salut,  respect,  and  devotion.  Caron  Beaumarchais." 

A  few  days  after  he  had  written  this  Memorial,  on  the 
morning  of  the  18th  May,  1799,  Beaumarchais,  who  the  pre- 
vious evening  had  been  very  gay  with  his  family  and  a  few 
friends,  was  found  dead  in  his  bed,  having  had  a  violent  fit 
of  apoplexy,  at  the  age  of  sixty-seven  years  and  three  months. 

It  seems  that  on  account  of  a  few  words,  which  were  more 
or  less  authentic,  attributed  to  the  author  of  "  The  Marriage 
of  Figaro"  in  a  conversation  with  a  friend  who  is  not  named, 
and  the  subject  of  which  was  the  best  means  of  killing  one's 


BEAUMABGUAIS'    DEATH.  453 

self  by  chemical  means  without  pain,  the  opinion  that  he  had 
poisoned  himself  with  opium,  found  some  partisans.  Indeed, 
eight  or  ten  days  after  his  decease,  a  friend  of  the  family  wrote 
to  Madame  de  Beaumarchais  that  he  had  met  some  one  who 
had  gravely  uttered  this  impertinence.  This  report  having  been 
revived  by  several  writers  in  the  present  day,  we  must  prove 
that  it  is  altogether  without  foundation. 

First  of  all,  we  have  before  us  the  certificate  of  the  surgeon 
Lasalle,  who  was  called  in  to  give  a  certificate  of  the  death. 
This  certificate  is  dated  the  very  day  of  the  death,  Floreal  29, 
Year  7,  and  declares  that  the  Citizen  Beaumarchais  died  "  of 
sanguine  apoplexy,  and  of  no  other  illness."  To  this  testi- 
mony we  must  join  that  of  the  son-in-law  of  the  author  of 
"  The  Marriage  of  Figaro,"  M.  Delarue,  who,  when  informed 
by  us  of  the  persevering  manner  in  which  the  report  was  cir- 
culated, and  of  which  he  was  ignorant,  wrote  to  us,  some  years 
since,  the  following  letter : 

"  VUlepinte,  par  Livry  (Seine-et-Oise),  October  7,  1849. 

"  Sir, — ^I  have  just  learned  with  painful  astonishment  the  rumors 
which  have  been  circulated  about  the  last  moments  of  Beaumarchais, 
my  father-in-law.  The  lying  assertion  as  to  his  suicide,  which  has 
been  reproduced  by  serious  writers,  obliges  me  to  repel,  with  all  the 
indignation  it  merits,  a  fable  at  which  the  family  and  friends  of  Beau- 
marchais would  have  been  much  hurt  if  they  had  known  it,  if  it  had 
been  circulated  sooner. 

"  Beaumarchais,  after  passing  with  his  family  a  most  lively  even- 
ing, during  which  his  wit  had  never  been  more  free  or  more  brilliant, 
was  struck  with  apoplexy.  His  valet,  on  coming  into  his  room  in 
the  morning,  found  him  in  the  same  position  in  which  he  had  left 
him  when  he  put  him  to  bed,  with  a  calm  face,  and  apparently  asleep. 
I  was  informed  of  it  by  the  cries  of  despair  uttered  by  the  valet.  I 
hurried  to  my  father-in-law's  room,  when  I  ascertained  that  he  had 
suffered  a  sudden  and  tranquil  death  ;  my  only  subsequent  care  was 
to  save  his  daughter,  who  really  worshiped  her  father,  the  anguish 
of  hearing  news  which  might  have  been  fatal  to  her  L*"  it  had  been 
communicated  to  her  without  preparation.  This,  sir,  is  the  exact 
truth.  Delarue." 

The  narrative  of  Beaumarchais'  death  given  by  Gudin  in 
his  manuscript  corresponds  perfectly  with  that  of  M.  Delarue. 
Let  us  add,  in  order  to  do  away  with  all  suspicion  of  planned 
reticence  on  the  subject  between  the  relations  and  friends  of 


454  BEAUMAKCHAIS   AND    HIS   TIMES. 

the  defunct,  that  in  the  most  private  family  letters  there  is  no 
trace  of  such  an  opinion ;  Gudin,  for  instance,  in  his  letters  to 
Madame  de  Beaumarchais,  makes  frequent  allusions  to  the 
death  of  his  friend,  always  wishing,  like  him,  "  for  a  sudden 
and  tranquil  death ;"  while  Madame  de  Beaumarchais  writes 
on  her  side,  "  He  has  left  this  world  without  knowing  it,  as 
he  entered  it."  Whence  we  must  conclude  that  if  Beaumar- 
chais committed  suicide,  this  suicide  was  only  known  to  stran- 
gers, and  that  the  surgeon  who  wrote  the  certificate  of  his 
death,  and  his  own  family,  were  completely  ignorant  of  it, 
which  is  certainly  not  very  probable.  We  must,  moreover, 
remark  that  Beaumarchais  in  his  old  age  presented  the  ap- 
pearance of  a  man  "of  a  full  and  sanguine  habit."  These 
characteristics  of  his  constitution  are  indicated  in  the  last 
passport  which  the  minister  of  France  at  Hamburg  gave  him 
when  he  was  returning  to  his  native  land ;  and  he  calls  him- 
self, in  some  verses  of  the  same  period, 

"  Un  bon  vieillard  grand,  gris,  gros,  gras." 

Now  the  annoyance,  agitation,  and  impatience  caused  by  the 
destruction  of  his  fortune,  which  have  been  brought  forward 
to  explain  his  asserted  suicide,  when  we  take  them  in  connec- 
tion with  his  temperament,  point  much  more  naturally  to 
apoplexy.  Finally,  this  opinion  as  to  his  suicide,  founded 
altogether  upon  heedless  words  which  an  anomjmous  witness 
heard  Beaumarchais  utter  when  speaking  of  poisons  which 
give  no  pain — this  opinion  as  to  his  suicide  is  radically  in- 
compatible with  the  situation  and  known  disposition  of  the 
author  of  "The  Marriage  of  Figaro."  He  adored  his  only 
daughter,  and  was  adored  by  her ;  he  alone  appeared  capable, 
and  thought  himself  capable,  of  extricating  his  great  fortune 
from  the  chaos  into  which  it  had  been  thrown.  Is  it  admis- 
sible that  he  could  have  thought  of  a  voluntary  leaving  of  this 
heavy  burden  on  the  shoulders  of  his  daughter  and  her  young 
husband,  who  was  then  quite  inexperienced  in  the  afi'airs  of 
the  world?" 

It  is  also  known  that  one  of  the  distinctive  points  in  Beau- 
marchais' character  was  his  obstinate  perseverance ;  he  was 
combating,  as  we  have  said,  at  the  time  of  his  deatli,  the  un- 


BEAUMARCHAIS'    DEATH.  455 

just  decision  of  a  final  commission,  which  proposed  to  the 
minister  of  finance  to  take  from  him  997,000  francs,  granted 
by  a  preceding  commission,  and  to  make  him  a  debtor  to  the 
state  for  the  sum  of  500,000  francs.  Ten  days  before  dying, 
Floreal  18,  Year  7,  he  wTote  on  this  subject  to  the  minister 
Talleyrand,  his  friend,  the  following  lines :  "  It  is  against  this 
murderous  commission,  which  IsJialldeal  with  apart,  it  is  against 
their  unjust  manner  of  acting  toward  me,  that  I  now  appear 
before  the  minister  of  finance;  I  at  once  place  my  just  claims 
before  him  in  a  light  as  clear  as  the  sun,  and  this  is  the  time 
for  you  to  speak  in  my  favor."  "Was  this  a  time,  it  being  es- 
tablished that  at  his  death  the  minister  of  finance  had  not 
yet  come  to  any  determination — was  this  a  time,  when  a  vio- 
lent and  decisive  struggle  was  pending,  for  Beaumarchais  to 
think  of  giving  up  the  contest  by  committing  suicide  ?  Evi- 
dently not.  It  is  certain,  then,  that  this  story  of  his  suicide, 
already  disproved  by  the  most  authentic  documents  and  per- 
sonal testimony,  is  not  less  at  variance  with  all  probability ; 
it  rests,  then,  upon  no  foundation,  and  ought  to  be  forever  dis- 
missed. 

In  one  of  the  darkest  walks  of  his  garden,  Beaumarchais  had 
arranged  a  group  of  trees,  which  were  destined  to  shade  his 
tomb.  "  There,"  says  Gudin,  "  his  son-in-law,  his  relations, 
his  friends,  and  some  men  of  letters  who  loved  him,  performed 
the  last  duties  toward  him,  and  Collin  d'Harleville  pronounced 
a  speech,  which  I  had  composed  on  the  first  outburst  of  my 
grief,  but  which  I  was  not  in  a  fit  state  to  deliver."  Beneath 
this  funereal  clump,  after  so  stormy  a  life,  Beaumarchais  doubt- 
less hoped  to  be  able  to  say  at  last,  "  Tandem  quiescoJ"  This 
was  again  an  illusion  ;  this  clump  is  now  a  street,  and  the 
coffin  which  it  protected  has  had  to  be  removed  to  one  of  those 
great  cemeteries,  which  will  also  one  day  become  streets  and 
public  places. 

On  the  death  of  the  author  of  "The  Marriage  of  Figaro," 
his  brilliant  fortune  seemed  completely  destroyed.  He  left  to 
his  heirs  plenty  of  debts  and  lawsuits.  However,  after  a  few 
years,  through  fortunate  circumstances  and  good  administra- 
tion, the  state  of  his  affairs  became  notably  improved.  I  find, 
indeed,  in  a  report  of  the  cashier  Gudin' s,  addressed  to  the 


456  BEA.UMAKCHAIS    AND   HIS   TIMES. 

daughter  of  his  old  patron,  that  his  fortune,  although  consid- 
erably diminished,  amounted  in  1809  to  nearly  a  million. 
Madame  Delarue,  then,  was  somewhat  exaggerating  the  mean- 
ing of  words  when,  in  a  dialogue  which  we  have  given  above, 
she  said  to  the  Emperor,  "  Sire,  the  Revolution  has  ruined  us, 
or  nearly  so."  As  the  opinion  that  Beaumarchais  was  com- 
pletely ruined  has  been  expressed  in  a  good  many  works,  we 
have  thought  it  right  to  correct  it. 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

COXCLUSIOX. 


It  is  evident — and  this  is  a  fact  which  can  neither  be  sup- 
pressed nor  contested — it  is  evident  that,  among  the  celebrated 
men  of  the  eighteenth  century,  the  author  of "  The  Marriage 
of  Figaro"  is  one  of  those  who  have  not  enjoyed  a  consideration 
equal  to  their  celebrity.  His  character  was  often  the  object 
of  attacks  and  calumnies  of  the  most  injurious  nature.  He 
seeks  to  explain  the  fact  himself  in  an  unpublished  document ; 
we  will  let  him  speak  for  himself: 

"  With  gayety,  and  even  honhommie,  I  have  had  enemies  without 
number,  and  have  nevertheless  never  crossed,  or  even  taken  the  path 
of  another  person.  By  dint  of  reasoning  with  myself  I  have  discov- 
ered the  cause  of  so  much  hostility ;  in  fact,  it  is  natural  enough. 

"  From  the  period  of  my  thoughtless  youth  I  have  played  every  in- 
strument, but  I  belonged  to  no  body  of  musicians ;  the  professors  of 
the  art  detested  me. 

"  I  have  invented  some  good  machines ;  but  I  did  not  belong  to  the 
body  of  engineers,  and  they  spoke  ill  of  me. 

"  I  composed  verses,  songs ;  but  who  would  recognize  me  as  a 
poet  ?     I  was  the  son  of  a  watchmaker. 

"  Not  caring  about  the  game  of  loto,  I  wrote  some  pieces  for  the 
stage  ;  but  people  said, '  What  is  he  interfering  with  ?  he  is  not  an 
author,  for  he  has  immense  speculations,  and  enterprises  without  num- 
ber.' 

"  Unable  to  meet  with  any  one  who  would  undertake  my  defense, 
I  printed  long  Memorials  in  order  to  gain  actions  which  had  been 
brought  against  me,  and  which  may  be  called  atrocious ;  but  people 
said,  'You  see  very  well  that  these  are  not  like  those  our  advocates 


CONCLUSION.  457 

produce ;  will  such  a  man  be  allowed  to  prove  without  us  that  he  is 
in  the  right  ?'     Inde  tree. 

"  I  have  treated  with  ministers  on  the  subject  of  great  points  of 
reform  of  which  our  finances  were  in  need  ;  but  people  said, '  What 
is  he  interfering  in  ?  this  man  is  not  a  financier.' 

"  Struggling  against  all  the  powers,  I  have  raised  the  art  of  print- 
ing in  France  by  my  superb  editions  of  Voltaire — the  enterprise  hav- 
ing been  regarded  as  beyond  the  capabilities  of  one  individual ;  but  I 
was  not  a  printer,  and  they  said  the  devil  about  me.  I  had  construct- 
ed, at  the  same  time,  the  first  e^ablishments  of  three  or  four  paper 
factories  without  being  a  manufacturer  ;  I  had  the  manufacturers  and 
dealers  for  my  adversaries. 

"  I  have  traded  in  the  four  quarters  of  the  globe ;  but  I  was  not  a 
regular  merchant.  I  had  forty  ships  at  sea  at  one  time ;  but  I  was 
not  a  shipowner,  and  I  was  caJumniaXed  in  all  our  sea-ports. 

"A  ship  of  war  of  fifty-two  guns  belonging  to  me  had  the  honor  of 
fighting  in  Mne  with  those  of  his  majesty  at  the  taking  of  Grenada. 
Notwithstanding  the  pride  of  the  navy,  they  gave  the  cross  to  the 
captain  of  my  vessel,  and  military  rewards  to  my  other  officers,  and 
what  I,  who  was  looked  upon  as  an  intruder,  gained,  was  the  loss  of 
my  flotilla  which  tliis  vessel  was  convoying. 

"  And  nevertheless,  of  all  Frenchmen,  whoever  they  may  be,  I  am 
the  one  who  has  done  the  most  for  the  liberty  of  America,  the  be- 
getter of  our  own ;  for  I  was  the  only  person  who  dared  to  form  the 
plan  and  commence  its  execution,  in  spite  of  England,  Spain,  and 
even  France  ;  but  I  did  not  belong  to  the  class  of  negotiators,  and  I 
was  a  stranger  in  the  bureaus  of  the  ministers.     Inde  ircB. 

"  Weary  of  seeing  our  uniform  habitations,  and  our  gardens  with- 
out poetry,!  built  a  house  which  is  spoken  of;  but  I  did  not  belong 
to  the  arts.     Inde  ira. 

"  What  was  I,  then  ?  I  was  nothing  but  myself,  and  myself  I  have 
remained,  free  in  the  midst  of  fetters,  calm  in  the  greatest  of  dangers, 
making  head  against  all  storms,  directing  speculations  with  one  hand 
and  war  with  the  other ;  as  lazy  as  an  ass,  and  always  working  ;  the 
object  of  a  thousand  calumnies,  but  happy  in  my  home,  having  never 
belonged  to  any  coterie,  either  literary,  or  political,  or  mystical ;  hav- 
ing never  paid  court  to  any  one,  and  yet  repelled  by  all." 

U 


APPENDIX. 


LETTER   OF   W.  CARMICHAEL. 

"  Philadelpbia,  September  3. 

"  Dear  Sir, — I  have  forgotten  my  French  so  much  since  my  ar- 
rival here,  although  I  have  not  forgotten  my  French  friends,  that  I 
do  not  dare  to  write  to  you  in  that  language. 

"  I  have  written  twice  lately  to  you  about  your  affairs,  so  that  I 
have  the  pleasure  of  repeating  to  you  that  the  Congress  begins  to 
feel  its  want  of  attention  toward  you,  and  with  what  easy  credulity 
it  has  received  the  base  and  malicious  insinuations  of  the  others, 
which  I  really  think  would  never  have  had  any  weight  if  Ducoudray 
had  not  at  first  spread  notions  altogether  to  your  prejudice.  I  can 
not  tell  you  whether  this  unhappy  nation  will  be  in  a  position  at  pres- 
ent to  satisfy  your  just  demands,  but  I  am  sure  it  will  adopt  some 
plan  for  arranging  this  affair,  so  that  it  may  find  the  means  of  paying 
at  a  future  period  what  its  present  inability  alone  prevents  it  from 
liquidating  now ;  and  upon  this  understanding  the  Congress,  as  I  hope 
and  think,  will  express  publicly  to  you  its  sentiments  of  gratitude  for 
your  generous  conduct. 

"  I  have  endeavored  with  all  my  might  to  convince  my  compatriots 
of  the  injustice  and  ingratitude  with  which  you  were  treated  before 
the  arrival  of  M.  Deane,  and  I  flatter  myself  I  have  had  some  suc- 
cess ;  he  has  made  similar  efforts,  so  that  justice,  although  slow,  vdll 
resume  its  sway.  I  wish,  for  the  honor  of  my  compatriots,  that  we 
never  had  any  occasion  to  make  such  representations  to  them. 

"  M.  de  Francy  is  in  Virginia,  and  is  acting  in  your  behalf  sin- 
cerely and  indefatigably ;  I  expect  him  soon  in  this  town.  Your 
nephew  has  passed  some  weeks  with  me,  but  he  is  ordered,  with  his 
general,  to  join  the  army  under  the  orders  of  General  Sullivan.  He 
is  a  brave  young  man,  and,  on  acquaintance,  is  much  liked  ;  he  has  all 
the  vivacity  of  his  age,  and  is  anxious  to  distinguish  himself  Gen- 
eral Conway  assured  me  that  he  behaved  like  a  little  hero  at  the  bat- 
tle of  Brandywine.  I  take  the  liberty  of  entering  into  these  details 
because  T  know  they  will  please  his  mamma,  for  bravery  was  always 
a  powerful  recommendation  with  the  fair  sex,  and  she  must  be  charm- 
ed to  find  so  much  of  it  in  her  son. 


460  APPENDIX. 

"  Our  arrangements  for  foreign  affairs  are  not  yet  terminated ;  ac- 
cordingly, I  do  not  know  whether  I  shall  be  continued  in  my  present 
place  of  secretary  of  embassy  at  your  court,  being  at  three  thousand 
miles  distance  from  it,  or  whether  I  shall  be  employed  in  some  fresh 
department. 

"  Dr.  Franklin  will  certainly  be  continued  at  the  court  of  Ver- 
sailles, and  a  blow  will  also  very  certainly  be  dealt  so  as  to  make  the 
Lees  fall  back  quietly  into  the  obscurity  from  which  they  were  en- 
deavoring to  raise  themselves ;  but  whether  that  be  effected  or  not 
is  not  yet  quite  certain ;  we  have  so  many  intrigues  and  cabals  here, 
that  you  and  our  friends  suffer  from  them  on  the  other  continent ; 
why  should  we  not  have  them,  considering  that  we  are  sovereign 
states,  and  that  we  are  friends  and  allies  of  Louis  XVL  ? 

"  Our  government  machine  being  only  such  as  it  was  invented,  we 
have  some  points  of  perfection  to  join  to  it,  and  some  wheels  to  add 
before  it  can  go  on  smoothly  and  with  success,  as  we  should  wish. 
In  the  mean  while  we  are  going  forward  slowly,  and  sometimes  we 
roll  over  the  stones  roughly  enough,  God  knows. 

"  I  beg  you  to  believe  me  forever  yours, 

"W.  Cabmichael." 


THF,   END. 


A  LIST  OF  NEW  BOOKS, 

PUBLZSHED  BT 

HARPER    6c    BROTHERS. 


■■-w#>/>^s^##>^^Vw^ 


Squier's  Central  America. 

Xotes  on  Central  America ;  particularly  the  States  of  Hondoras 
and  San  Salvador :  their  Geography,  Topography,  Climate,  Pop- 
ulation, Resources,  Productions,  <tc.,  <tc.,  and  the  proposed  In- 
teroceanic  Railway.  By  E.  G.  Squiee,  formerly  Gharg6  d' Af- 
faires of  the  United  States  to  the  Republics  of  Central  America. 
"With  Original  Maps  and  Illustrations.     8vo,  Muslin,  §2  00. 

Napoleon  at  St.  Helena ; 

Or,  Interesting  Anecdotes  and  Remarkable  Conversations  of  the 
Emperor  during  the  Five  and  a  Half  Years  of  his  Captivity. 
Collected  from  the  Memorials  of  Las  Casas,  O'Meara,  Montholon, 
Antonunarchi,  and  others.  By  John  S.  C.  Abbott.  "With  lUus^ 
trations.     8vo,  Muslin,  $2  50. 

Helps's  Spanish  Conquest. 

The  Spanish  Conquest  in  America,  and  its  Relation  to  the  His- 
tory of  Slavery,  and  to  the  Government  of  Colonies.  By  Aethue 
Helps.     Large  12mo,  Muslin. 

Loomis's  Arithmetic. 

A  Treatise  on  Arithmetic,  Theoretical  and  PracticaL  By  Euas 
LooMLs,  LLuD.     12mo,  Sheep. 

Barton's  Grammar. 

An  Outline  of  the  General  Principles  of  Grammar.  "With  a  Brief 
Exposition  of  the  Chief  Idiomatic  Peculiarities  of  the  English 
Language.  To  which  Questions  have  been  added.  Edited  and 
Enlarged  by  the  Rev.  J.  Geaeff  Baetox,  A.M.,  Professor  of  the 
English  Language  and  Literature  in  the  New  York  Free  Acad- 
emy.    16mo,  Muslin,  37  i  cents. 

Ewbank's  Brazil. 

Life  in  Brazil ;  or,  a  Journal  of  a  Visit  to  the  Land  of  the  Cocoa 
and  the  Palm.  "With  an  Appendix,  containing  Illustrations  of 
Ancient  South  American  Arts,  in  Recently  Discovered  Imple- 
ments and  Products  of  Domestic  Industry,  and  "Works  in  Stone. 
Pottery,  Gold,  Silver,  Bronze,  <fee.  Bv  Thomas  Ewbaxk.  "With 
over  100  Illustrations.     8vo,  Muslin,  $2  00. 


NEW    BOOKS    PUBLISHED    BY    HARPER    AND    BROTHERS. 

Mexico  and  its  Religion  5 

Or,  Incidents  of  Travel  in  that  Country  during  Parts  of  the  Years 
1851-52-53-54,  with  Historical  Notices  of  Events  connected  with 
Places  Visited.  By  Kobekt  A.  Whson.  "With  Dlustrations. 
12mo,  Muslin,  $1  00. 

Parisian  Sights 

and  French  Principles,  seen  through  American  Spectacles.  By 
James  Jackson  Jarvzs.  Second  Series.  "With  Illustrations. 
12mo,  Muslin,  $1  00. 

Italian  Sights. 

and  Papal  Principles,  seen  through  American  Spectacles.  By 
James  Jackson  Jarves.    With  Illustrations.    12mo,  Muslin,  $1  00. 

Art-Hints. 

Architecture,  Sculpture,  and  Painting.  By  Jambs  Jacicson  Jasyis. 
12mo,  Muslin,  $1  25. 

Christian  Theism : 

The  Testimony  of  Reason  and  Revelation  to  the  Existence  of  the 
Supreme  Being.  By  Robert  Anchor  Thompson,  M.A.  (The  First 
Burnett  Prize  of  $9000  was  awarded  to  this  Treatise.)  12mo, 
Muslin,  $1  25. 

A  Child's  History  of  the  United  States. 

By  John  Bonner.  2  vols.  16mo,  Muslin,  $1  00.  (Uniform  with 
Dickens's  "  Child's  History  of  England.) 

LUy. 

A  NoveL  By  the  Author  of  "  The  Busy  Moments  of  an  Idle 
Woman."     12mo,  Muslin,  $1  00. 

James's  Old  Dominion. 

The  Old  Dominion ;  or,  the  Southampton  Massacre.  By  G.  P. 
R.  James,  Esq.     8vo,  Paper,  60  cents. 

Miss  Bunkley's  Book. 

The  Testimony  of  an  Escaped  Novice  from  the  Sisterhood  of  St. 
Joseph,  Emmettsburg,  Maryland,  the  Mother-House  of  the  Sisters 
of  Charity  in  the  United  States.  By  Josephine  M.  Bunklet. 
12mo,  Muslin,  $1  00. 

Learning  to  Talk ; 

Or,  Entertaining  and  Instructive  Lessons  in  the  Use  of  Language. 
By  Jacob  Abbott.  Illustrated  with  170  Engravings.  Small  4to, 
Muslin,  50  cents. 


INEZ, 

A  Tale  of  the  Alamo.     12mo,  Muslin,  15  cents. 

We  have  to  recommend  the  book  to  pious  parents  and  gnardians  as  written  un- 
der the  influence  of  the  strictest  Protestant  principles  ;  and  to  introduce  it  to  young 
ladies  in  general,  as  containing  some  very  nice  "  love,"  seasoned  pleasantly  with 
just  enough  fighting  to  make  the  whole  story  agreeable. — Leader. 

When  the  Texans  threw  off  the  Mexican  yoke  and  entered  into  otir  National 
Confederacy,  no  portion  of  her  people  felt  the  change  more  keenly  than  her  Ro- 
mish priesthood,  and  especially  the  Jesuits.  Their  counter  and  insidious  duties 
of  social  and  domestic  life  is  the  moral  of  this  story.  The  lady  who  wrote  it  has 
studied  the  Romish  argument,  and  has  managed  it  with  effect.  It  is  not  a  book 
of  the  "Maria  Monk"  stamp  ;  it  is  a  successful  refutation  and  exposure,  in  popu- 
lar form,  of  some  of  the  worst  points  of  the  Romish  system.—  Church  Review. 

A  most  inviting  story,  the  interest  of  which  is  sustained  throughout  its  narra- 
tive of  stirring  events  and  deep  passions. — Mobile  Register. 

The  descriptions  of  scenes  of  carnage,  and  the  alarms  and  excitements  of  war 
are  graphic,  while  the  polemics  are  not  so  spun  out  as  to  be  tedious.  The  por- 
traiture of  the  Jesuit  padre  is  any  thing  but  flattering  to  the  Catholic  priesthood, 
while  her  dissertations  upon  the  doctrines,  traditions,  practices,  and  superstitious 
follies  of  the  Holy  Mother  Church  prove  her  to  be  no  respecter  of  its  claims  to  in- 
(Ulibility,  and  no  admirer  of  the  disciples  of  Loyola. — Constitutionalist  and  Re- 
public, Ga. 

We  have  read  this  work  with  the  liveliest  pleasure,  and  we  venture  to  assert, 
that  no  one  can  take  it  up  without  going  through  with  it. — Richmond  Whig. 

LE  CURE  MANQUE; 

Or,  Social  and  Religious  Customs  in  France.     By  Ecgsns  dk  Covk- 
ciLLox.     12mo,  Muslin,  "75  cents. 

The  autobiography  of  a  young  French  peasant  who  was  trained  for  the  Ctanrcb. 
Its  specific  purpose  is  to  give  an  account  of  the  social  and  rural  life  and  supersti- 
tions of  the  peasants  of  Normandy,  and  to  show  the  relations  existing  between 
them  and  their  priests.  The  author  also  describes,  in  a  very  interesting  manner, 
the  routine  and  customs  of  the  French  ecclesiastical  seminaries. 

"Le  Cure  Manque  is  a  curious  work,  for  its  pictures  of  French  peasant  man- 
ners, its  account  of  village  priests,  and  its  quiet  but  bitter  satire  on  the  selfishness 
of  the  Romanist  countrj-  clergy,  and  the  ignorance  in  which  they  leave  their  flocks. 
The  filling  up  of  the  story  shows  remarkable  skill,  for  the  easy  natural  way  in 
which  it  carries  out  the  authors  intention  of  exhibiting  "  social  and  religions  cus- 
toms" in  provincial  France. — London  Spectator. 

The  strange  state  of  society,  with  its  French  and  Papal  habits  which  it  por- 
trays, will  set  new  facts  before  the  mind  of  even-traveled  readers. — Presbyterian 
Banner. 

Le  Cure  Manque  (the  Unfinished  Priest)  is  a  title  which  very  accurately  con- 
veys an  idea  of  what  the  book  is.  It  lets  the  public  behind  the  scenes  in  a  remark- 
able manner,  and  is  one  of  the  most  readable  books  of  the  season. — X  Y.  Daily 
Times. 

A  most  agreeable  and  entertaining  narrative,  opening  to  most  American  readers 
novel,  strange,  and  (many  of  them)  charming  scenes.  Though  the  Church  may 
be  a  loser  (which  is  doubtful,  however),  the  world  has  certainly  been  a  gainer  by 
his  apostacy  from  his  sacred  calling. — Savannah  Journal. 

The  exposition  of  the  Romish  ceremonials,  and  of  the  subjectnre  of  the  masses 
of  the  French  people  to  priestcraft  are  peculiarly  interesting.  We  quote,  "  How 
a  mass  may  be  said  for  a  pig,  and  refliaed  for  a  Protestant."— iV.  Y.  Commereial 
Advertiser. 


WOMAN S  RECORD; 

Or,  Sj^etches  of  all  Distinguished  Women  from  the  Creation  to  th« 
Present  Time.  Arranged  in  Four  Eras.  With  Selections  from 
Female  "Writers  of  each  Era.  By  Mrs.  Sakah  Josepha  Hale. 
Illustrated  with  230  engraved  Portraits.  Second  Edition,  re- 
vised and  enlarged.  Royal  8vo,  Muslin,  $3  50 ;  Sheep,  $4  00; 
Half  Calf,  §4  25. 

"  Many  years  have  been  devoted  to  the  preparation  of  this  comprehensive  work, 
which  contains  complete  and  accurate  sketches  of  the  most  distinguished  wome' 
in  all  ages,  and,  in  extent  and  thoroughness,  far  surpasses  every  previous  bio. 
graphical  collection  with  a  similar  aim.  Mrs.  Hale  has  ransacked  the  treasures 
of  history  for  information  in  regard  to  the  eminent  women  whom  it  commemor- 
ates ;  few,  if  any,  important  names  are  omitted  in  her  volumes,  while  the  living 
celebrities  of  the  day  are  portrayed  with  justness  and  delicacy.  The  picture  of 
woman's  life,  as  it  has  been  developed  from  the  times  of  the  earliest  traditions  to 
the  present  date,  is  here  displayed  in  vivid  and  impressive  colors,  and  with  a 
living  sympathy  which  could  only  flow  from  a  feminine  pen.  A  judicious  selec- 
tion  from  the  writings  of  women  who  have  obtained  distinction  in  the  walks  of 
literature  is  presented,  affording  an  opportunity  for  comparing  the  noblest  produc- 
tions of  the  female  mind,  and  embracing  many  exquisite  gems  of  fancy  and  feel- 
ing. The  biographies  are  illustrated  by  a  series  of  highly-finished  engravings, 
which  form  a  gallery  of  portraits  of  curious  interest  to  the  amateur,  as  well  as  of 
great  historical  value. 

This  massive  volume  furnishes  an  historical  portrait  gallery,  in  which  each  age 
of  this  world  had  its  appropriate  representatives.  Mrs.  Hale  has  succeeded  ad- 
mirably in  her  biographical  sketches. — Philadelphia  Presbyterian. 

"  Woman's  Record"  is,  indeed,  a  noble  study  and  noble  history.  The  sketches 
are  all  carefully  and  even  elegantly  written. — Philadelphia  Evening  Bulletin. 

What  lady,  who  takes  a  pride  in  her  sex,  would  not  desire  to  have  this  volume 
on  her  centre-table  ?  and  what  husband,  lover,  or  brother  would  leave  such  a  wish 
ungratified. —  Washington  Republic. 

This  superb  monument  of  Mrs.  Hale's  indefatigable  devotion  to  her  sex  is  illus- 
trated by  230  portraits,  engraved  in  that  style  of  excellence  that  has  deservedly 
placed  Lossing  at  the  head  of  his  profession. — Philadelphia  Saturday  Courier. 

We  are  pleased  with  the  plan  of  the  "  Record,"  and  with  the  manner  in  which 
that  plan  is  carried  into  execution.  The  book  is  a  valuable  and  permanent  con- 
tribution to  literature. — New  Orleans  Baptist  Chronicle. 

This  work  merits  the  warmest  commendation. — Sun. 

This  is  a  large  and  beautiful  book,  and  covers  the  ground  marked  out  by  the  title 
more  fully  and  satisfactorily  than  any  other  work  extant.  It  is  a  most  valuable 
work. — Southern  Ladies'  Companion. 

Here  we  have  placed  before  us  a  book  that  would  do  credit  to  any  author  or 
compiler  that  ever  lived,  and,  to  the  astonishment  of  some,  produced  by  the  head, 
heart,  and  hand  of  a  woman. — A^  Y.  Daily  Times. 

This  is  a  very  curious  and  very  interesting  work — a  Biographical  Dictionary  of 
all  Distinguished  Females — a  work,  we  believe,  quite  unique  in  the  history  of 
literature.  We  have  only  to  say  that  the  work  will  be  found  both  instructive, 
amusing,  and  generally  impartial.— ion<ion  Ladies'  Messenger. 

The  comprehensiveness  of  the  work  renders  it  a  valuable  addition  to  the  library. 
— London  Ladies''  Companion. 

A  Female  Biographical  Dictionary,  which  this  volume  really  is,  will  often  be 
consulted  as  an  authority  ;  and  the  great  extent  of  Mrs.  Hale's  information  as  to 
the  distinguished  women  of  modern  times,  supplies  us  with  a  number  of  facta 
which  we  knew  not  where  to  proctire  elsewhere.  It  is  clearly  and  simply  written. 
^London  Gardian. 


BUNGENER'S  COUNCIL  OF  TRENT. 

History  of  the  Council  of  Trent.  From  the  French  of  K  F.  Bungb* 
NEB,  Author  of  "  The  Priest  and  the  Huguenot"  Edited,  from 
the  Second  English  Edition,  by  John  M'Cldttock,  D.D.  12mo, 
Muslin,  $1  00. 

Most  persons  know  that  the  Council  of  Trent  was  a  product  of  the  Reforma- 
tion, but  comparatively  few,  we  suspect,  know  much  about  its  history.  Those 
who  wish  to  know  (and  it  is  a  matter  worth  knowing)  will  find  ample  means  of 
information  in  this  volume.  *  *  *  He  (the  author)  is  clear  in  statement,  subtle 
and  consecutive  in  his  logic,  and  steers  as  fhr  from  dullness  as  from  sourness. — 
Perthshire  Advertiser. 

It  is  all  that  a  history  should  be— perspicuous  in  language,  discriminating  in 
detail,  dignified  and  philosophical  in  manner,  candid  and  faithful  in  the  narration 
of  facts,  and  bears  evident  traces  of  extensive  reading  and  enlarged  information. 
— Caledonian  Meecury. 

This  history  is  invaltiable. — Christian  Advocate. 

Characterized  by  clearness,  truthfulness,  and  vigor  in  the  narrative,  acuteness 
and  terseness  in  the  reasoning,  and  a  spirit  of  Christian  fidelity  and  charity. — 
Watchman. 

The  work  before  us  is  undoubtedly  one  of  the  very  best  that  has  appeared  on 
the  subject.  The  writer  has  abundant  materials,  and  has  used  them  with  fidelity, 
impartiality,  and  talent.  His  brilliant  style  radiates  in  every  department  of  the 
work. — Philadelphia  Evening  Bulletin. 

A  work  of  permanent  interest,  which  should  be  well  understood  by  the  ministry 
of  our  church  and  country. — Christian  Observer. 

It  is  adapted  for  popular  reading ;  while,  as  a  true  portraiture  of  men  and  tbincs 
in  the  Council,  it  is  invaluable  to  the  theologian. — Christian  InUlligmeer. 


MEXICO  AND  ITS  RELIGION 


Or,  Incidents  of  Travel  in  that  Country  during  Parts  of  the  Teaw 
1851-52-53-54,  with  Historical  Notices  of  Events  connected 
with  Places  Visited.     By  Robert  A.  Wilson.     Wiih  Illustra- 
tions.    12mo,  Muslin,  $1  00. 
This  is  a  record  of  recent  travel  in  various  parts  of  Mexico,  including  ftill  sta- 
tistical details,  historical  reminiscences  and  legends,  and  descriptions  of  society, 
manners,  and  scenery.     A  large  portion  is  devoted  to  the  influence  of  the  Catholic 
Church,  and  relates  many  piquant  narratives  in  illustration  of  the  subject.     The 
author  writes  in  a  lively,  graphic,  and,  sometimes,  humorous  style.    He  gives  a 
great  deal  of  valuable  information,  and  his  travels  can  not  fail  to  find  nuineroas 
readers  and  prove  a  most  popular  volume. 


SEYMOUR'S  JESUITS. 

Mornings  among  the  Jesuits  at  Rome.  Being  Notes  of  Conversa- 
tions held  with  certain  Jesuits  on  the  Subject  of  Religion  in  the 
City  of  Rome.  By  Rev.  M.  Hobabt  Setmol^b,  M.A.  12mo, 
Muslin,  75  cents. 


LOSSING'S  PICTORIAL  FIELDBOOK 

Of  the  Revolution ;  or,  Illustrations,  by  Pen  and  Pencil,  of  the  His- 
tory, Biography,  Scenery,  Relics,  and  Traditions  of  the  War 
for  Independence.  2  vols.  Royal  8vo,  Muslin,  $8  00;  Sheep, 
$9  00;  Half  Calf,  810  00;  Full  Morocco,  $15  00. 

A  new  and  carefully  revised  edition  of  this  magnificent  work  is  just  completed 
in  two  imperial  octavo  volumes  of  equal  size,  containing  1500  pages  and  1100  en- 
gravings. As  the  plan,  scope,  and  beauty  of  the  work  were  originally  developed, 
eminent  literary  men,  and  the  leading  presses  of  the  United  States  and  Great 
Britain,  pronounced  it  one  of  the  most  valuable  historical  productions  ever  issued. 

The  preparation  of  this  work  occupied  the  author  more  than  four  years,  during 
which  he  traveled  nearly  ten  thousand  miles  in  order  to  visit  the  prominent  scenes 
of  revolutionary  history,  gather  up  local  traditions,  and  explore  records  and  his- 
tories. In  the  use  of  his  pencil  he  was  governed  by  the  determination  to  withhold 
nothing  of  importance  or  interest.  Being  himself  both  artist  and  writer,  he  has 
been  able  to  combine  the  materials  he  had  collected  in  both  departments  into  a 
work  possessing  perfect  unity  of  purpose  and  execution. 

The  object  of  the  author  in  arranging  his  plan  was  to  reproduce  the  history  of 
the  American  Revolution  in  such  an  attractive  manner,  as  to  entice  the  youth  of 
his  country  to  read  the  wonderful  story,  study  ita  philosophy  and  teachings,  and 
to  become  familiar  with  the  founders  of  our  Republic  and  the  value  of  their  labors. 
In  this  he  has  been  eminently  successful ;  for  the  young  read  the  pages  of  the 
''  Field- Book"  with  the  same  avidity  as  those  of  a  romance  ;  while  the  abundant 
stores  of  information,  and  the  careful  manner  in  which  it  has  been  arranged  and 
set  forth,  render  it  no  less  attractive  to  the  general  reader  and  the  ripe  scholar  of 
more  mature  years. 

Explanatory  notes  are  profusely  given  upon  every  page  in  the  volume,  and  also 
a  brief  biographical  sketch  of  every  man  distinguished  in  the  events  of  the  Revo, 
iution,  the  history  of  whose  life  is  known. 

A  Supplement  of  forty  pages  contains  a  history  of  the  Naval  Operations  of  the 
Rei'olutioti ;  of  the  Diplomacy ;  of  the  Confederation  and  Federal  Constitution ; 
the  Prisons  and  Prison  Ships  of  New  York ;  Lives  of  the  Signers  of  the  Declara- 
tion of  Independence,  and  other  matters  of  curious  interest  to  the  historical  student. 

A  new  and  very  elaborate  analytical  index  has  been  prepared,  to  which  we  call 
special  attention.  It  embraces  cighty-flve  closely  printed  pages,  and  possesses 
rare  value  for  every  student  of  our  revolutionary  history.  It  is  in  itself  a  com- 
plete synopsis  of  the  history  and  biography  of  that  period,  and  will  be  found  ex- 
ceedingly useful  for  reference  by  every  reader. 

As  a  whole,  the  work  contains  all  the  essential  facts  of  the  early  history  of  our 
Republic,  which  are  scattered  through  scores  of  volumes  often  inaccessible  to  the 
great  mass  of  readers.  The  illustrations  make  the  whole  subject  of  the  American 
Revolution  so  clear  to  the  reader  that,  on  rising  from  its  perusal,  he  feels  thorough- 
ly acquainted,  not  only  with  the  history,  but  with  every  important  locality  made 
memorable  by  the  events  of  the  war  for  Independence,  and  it  forms  a  complete 
Guide-Book  to  the  tourist  seeking  for  fields  consecrated  by  patriotism,  which  lie 
scattered  over  our  broad  land.  Nothing  has  been  spared  to  make  it  complete,  ra. 
liable,  and  eminently  useful  to  all  classes  of  citizens.  Upward  of  THIRTY-FIVE 
THOUSAND  DOLLARS  were  expended  in  the  publication  of  the  first  edition. 
The  exquisite  wood-cuts,  engraved  under  the  immediate  supervision  of  the  author, 
from  his  own  drawings,  in  the  highest  style  of  the  art,  required  the  greatest  care 
in  printing.  To  this  end  the  efforts  of  the  publishers  have  been  directed,  and  we 
take  great  pleasure  in  presenting  these  volumes  as  the  best  specimen  of  typogra- 
phy ever  issued  from  the  American  press. 

The  publication  of  the  work  having  been  commenced  in  numbers  before  its 
preparation  was  completed,  the  volumes  of  the  first  edition  were  made  quite  un- 
equal in  size.  That  defect  has  been  remedied,  and  the  work  is  now  presented  in 
two  volumes  of  equal  size,  containing  about  780  pages  each 


HARPER'S  NEW  MONTHLY  MAGAZINE. 

Each  Noinber  of  the  Magazine  will  contain  144  octavo  pages,  in  doable  eol- 
nmns,  each  year  thus  comprising  nearly  two  tboosand  pages  of  the  choicest  Mis- 
cellaneous Literature  of  the  day.  Every  number  will  contain  numerous  Pictorial 
Illustrations,  accurate  Plates  of  the  Fashions,  a  copious  Chronicle  of  Current 
Events,  and  impartial  Notices  of  the  important  Books  of  the  Month.  The  Vol- 
umes commence  with  the  Numbers  for  Ju.ne  and  December  ;  but  Subscriptions 
may  commence  with  any  number. 

Terms. — The  Magazine  may  be  obtained  of  Booksellers,  Periodical  Agents,  or 
from  the  Publishers,  at  Three  Dollars  a  year,  or  Twesty-five  Cents  a 
Number.  The  Semi-Annual  Volumes,  as  completed,  neatly  bound  in  Cloth,  are 
nold  at  Two  Dollars  each,  and  MusUn  Covers  are  furnished  to  those  who  wish  to 
have  their  back  Numbers  nuiformly  bound,  at  Twenty-fire  Cents  each.  Eleven 
Volumes  are  now  ready,  bound. 

The  Publishers  wiU  supply  Specimen  Numbers  gratnitotisly  to  Agents  and 
Postmasters,  and  will  make  liberal  arrangements  with  them  for  circiUating  the 
Magazine.  They  will  also  supply  Clubs,  of  two  persons  at  Five  Dollars  a  year, 
or  five  persons  at  Ten  Dollars.  Clergymen  supplied  at  Two  Dollars  a  year. 
Numbers  from  the  commencement  can  now  be  supplied. 

The  Magazine  weighs  over  seven  and  not  over  eight  ounces.  The  Postage  npon 
each  Niunber,  which  must  be  paid  quarterly  in  advance,  is  Three  Cents. 

The  Publishers  would  give  notice  that  that  they  have  no  Agents 
for  whose  contracts  they  are  responsible.  Those  ordering  the  Mag- 
azine from  Agents  or  Dealers  must  look  to  them  for  the  supply  of  the 
Work. 

Each  month  it  gladdens  ns  and  onr  household,  to  say  nothing  of  the  neighbors 
who  enjoy  it  with  us.  Twenty-five  cents  buys  it — the  cheapest,  richest,  and  most 
lasting  luxury  for  the  money  that  we  know.  Three  dollars  secures  it  for  one 
year :  and  what  three  dollars  ever  went  so  far  ?  Put  the  same  amount  in  clothes, 
eating,  drinking,  fUmiture,  and  how  much  of  a  substantial  thing  is  obtained?  If 
ideas,  facts,  and  sentiments,  have  a  monetary  value — above  all,  if  the  hnmor  that 
refreshes,  the  pleasantries  that  bring  a  gentle  smile,  and  brighten  the  passage  of 
a  truth  to  your  brain,  and  the  happy  combination  of  the  real  and  the  imaginative, 
without  which  no  one  can  live  a  life  above  the  animal,  are  to  be  put  in  the  scale 
opposite  to  dollars  and  cents,  then  you  may  be  certain,  that  if  Harper  were  three 
or  four  times  as  dear,  it  would  amply  repay  its  price.  It  is  a  Magazine  proper, 
with  the  idea  and  purpose  of  a  Magazine — not  a  book,  not  a  scientific  periodical, 
nor  yet  a  supplier  of  light  gossip  and  chatty  anecdotes — but  a  Magazine  that  takes 
every  form  of  interesting,  dignified,  and  attractive  literatttre  in  its  grasp. — South- 
em  Times. 

Its  success  was  rapid,  and  has  continued  till  the  monthly  issne  has  reached  the 
unprecedented  number  of  150,000.  The  volumes  bound  constitute  of  themselves 
a  library  of  miscellaneous  reading,  such  as  can  not  be  found  in  the  same  compass 
in  any  other  publication  that  has  come  under  our  notice.  The  contents  o;  the 
Magazine  are  as  "  various  as  the  mind  of  man."  In  the  immense  amount  m'  mat- 
ter which  it  contains,  it  would  be  strange,  indeed,  if  there  w^s  not  something  to 
gratify  every  taste.  The  articles  illustrating  the  natural  history  and  resources 
of  our  country  are  enough  to  entitle  the  Magazine  to  a  place  in  every  family  where 
there  are  children  to  be  taught  to  love  their  native  land.  The  Editor's  Table  pre- 
sents every  month  an  elaborately  prepared  essay  on  some  topic  intimately  con- 
nected with  our  politics,  our  morals,  or  our  patriotism,  while  the  Easy  Chair  and 
the  Drawer  of  the  same  responsible  personage— doubtless  a  plural  wni/— display 
gems  of  wit,  humor,  and  fancy,  in  any  quantity  to  suit  the  temper  of  any  reader- 
— Hoston  Courier. 


HARPER'S  STORY  BOOKS. 

A  Monthly  Series  of  Narratives,  Biographies,  and  Tales,  for  the 
Instruction  and  Entertainment  of  the  Young.  By  Jacob  Ab- 
bott.    Embellished  "with  numerous  and  beautiful  Engravings. 

Terms. — Each  Number  of  "  Harper's  Story  Books"  will  contain 
160  pages  in  small  quarto  form,  very  beautifully  illustrated,  and 
printed  on  superfine  calendered  paper. 

The  Series  may  be  obtained  of  Booksellers,  Periodical  Agents, 
and  Postmasters,  or  from  the  Publishers,  at  Three  Dollars  a  year, 
or  Twenty-five  Cents  a  Number  in  Paper,  or  Forty  Cents  a  Num- 
ber bound  in  Cloth  gilt  Subscriptions  may  commence  with  any 
Number.  The  Postage  upon  "  Harper's  Story  Books,"  which  must 
be  paid  quarterl3-  in  advance,  is  Two  Cents.  "Harper's  Magazine" 
and  "  Harper's  Story  Books"  will  be  sent  to  one  Address,  for  one 
year,  for  Five  Dollars. 

The  Quarterly  Volumes,  as  completed,  neatly  bound  in  Cloth  gilt, 
are  sold  at  One  Dollar  each,  and  Muslin  Covers  are  furnished  to 
those  who  wish  to  have  their  back  Numbers  uniformly  bound,  at 
Twenty-five  Cents  each. 

Vol.  I.  Contains  the  first  three  Numbers,  "  Bruno,"  "Willie," 
and  "Strait  Gate." — ^\^ol.  IL  "The  Little  Louvre,"  "Prank,"  and 
"Emma." — Vol.  III.  "Virginia,"  "Timboo  and  Joliba,"  and  "Tim- 
boo  and  Fanny." — Vol.  IV.  "The  Harper  Establishment,"  "Frank- 
lin," and  "The  Studio." 

They  are  the  best  children's  books  ever  published.  They  wisely  avoid  the  in- 
troduction or  discussion  of  religious  topics,  yet  are  such  as  Christian  parents 
may  unhesitatingly  place  in  their  children's  bands.  The  price  is  marvelously 
low.  Twenty-five  cents  a  number  makes  it  about  six  pages  of  print  and  two  ex- 
cellent engravings  foreace  cent  of  the  money.  The  engravings  alone,  without  a 
line  of  letter-press,  would  be  cheap  at  the  price.  One  good  thing  these  Story  Books 
will  certainly  accomplish  :  henceforth  inferior  authorship  and  used-up,  worn  out 
illustrations  can  not  be  palmed  off  on  children.  They  have  samples  here  of  what 
is  best  for  them,  and  they  are  shrewd  enough  not  to  put  up  with  any  thing  of  low- 
er quality. — N.  Y.  Daily  Times. 

We  have  heard  so  many  fathers  and  mothers  who  recognize  the  pleasant  duty 
of  guiding  the  minds  of  their  children  in  the  paths  of  knowledge  at  home,  speak 
in  terms  of  the  highest  commendation  of  this  series  of  books  for  children,  that  we 
feel  a  desire  to  see  them  universally  read  among  children.  They  constitute  the 
finest  series  of  books  for  the  young  that  we  have  seen. — Louisville  Courier. 

Who  is  better  qualified  than  Jacob  Abbott  to  prepare  such  a  work  ?  He  always 
seems  to  have  an  intuitive  perception  of  just  what  children  want — ^just  what  will 
take  with  them,  and  so  serve  as  the  medium  of  conveying  instruction  in  the  pleas- 
antest  form.  He  has  begun  this  new  series  admirably,  and  we  almost  envy  the 
relish  with  which  our  children  will  read  it.  Now  for  a  suggestion  to  parents : 
instead  of  buying  your  boy  some  trumpery  toy,  give  him  a  year's  subscription  to 
this  charming  monthly.  It  will  cost  you  three  dollars,  indeed ;  but  its  excellent 
moral  hints  and  influence,  its  useful  and  entertaining  knowledge,  are  worth  all 
that,  and  much  more.  If  you  think  you  can  not  afford  it  for  one  child,  take  it  for 
your  children's  home  circle,  and  let  one  read  it  aloud  to  the  others.  You'll  never 
regret  it. — Christian  Inquirer. 


^^iO 


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